The Key to Everything
by Animorphgirl
Summary: *Skate* What if Kate had told Sawyer why she wanted the briefcase and their relationship began there? Onto chapter 13. Revised.
1. Chapter 1

The Key to Everything

Rating: T for language and sexual situations.

Summary: What if Kate had told Sawyer why she wanted the briefcase? Takes place during "Whatever the Case May Be", in season one. AU from there. My first Lost fic, so please r/r!

"Last chance."

Sawyer is hiding a grin as he says this. Damn him, acting so reasonable. He has to know that what he wants Kate to reveal is going to be, well, revealing. She doesn't want to tell him about Tom and how she got him killed. How what's in the case is the only reminder she has of him. Well, could have. If she could just get the case out of Sawyer's hands.

It's stupid. She's more or less with Jack now, even though Sawyer has made his feelings for her extremely obvious. Had Kate discovered the case with him, he would have let her take it, no questions asked. Unfortunately, she had to find it with Sawyer, and she had to give into her curiosity and ask him to retrieve it from the water plants.

Stupid. Idiotic. She knew where the waterfall was. Should have stayed silent, kept swimming, and then told Jack that night. Say that they found some items with the dead bodies that might be useful. That the marshal on the plane was carrying the case, so it probably contained at least one gun.

In case, you know, he needed to use it on her. The fugitive.

Instead, Sawyer had it. It was only a matter of time before he figured out how to break it open. Even without the key, there had to be ways on the island. Sure, throwing it off a cliff hadn't worked, but there were higher cliffs. Maybe if they sharpened enough sticks and threw the case down onto that…

Maybe one of Locke's knives would do the trick. Or, maybe Sawyer had something at camp that he could use to open the case, and was just trying these other methods to get at Kate.

The idea that Sawyer might have a way to get inside the case in his tent was enough to make Kate want to fight him for it.

Except, there were no saying that Sawyer had a way of opening the case. Kate, on the other hand, knew exactly where the key was hidden. Or, more accurately, buried. Sawyer had no qualms about stealing from the dead. He might make a snarky comment about Kate wanting to do the same, but it wasn't like digging up a dead man to find a key would come as a shock to Sawyer's mentality.

He is starting to walk off, and Kate feels her heart begin to throb as she made her decision. She could steal the plane. It's so small that Sawyer wouldn't even notice her taking it. He'd be too interested in the guns. And whatever else was in there. He wouldn't care about a toy. And even if he did, would he claim ownership of it? Yes, he hoarded medicine, books, and just about anything he could find, but a small airplane had no use to anyone.

"Wait." Her voice is shaky, and she hates this.

Sawyer, who had begun walking during her musings, stops short. He turns around to face her, clearly surprised.

"So you wanna play nice?" he asks skeptically. She wouldn't have noticed his suspicion except his eyebrows betrayed him. They always shoot up when he didn't fully believe someone.

Which was a lot.

"I know where the key is," Kate replies by way of explanation. "So unless you want to keep throwing that thing off of rocks…"

His eyes shoot up again. "How…?"

"It belonged to the marshal, who was seated next to me."

She waits a minute for this to sink in. Of course, if Sawyer remembers where the marshal was buried, then she has just given him all the information he needs.

Sawyer sighs. "You still won't tell me why you want it?"

Kate shrugs. "What do you think is in it? I'm guessing guns, and we sure could use those around camp."

"And you tried to steal it before instead of saying this…why?"

Kate doesn't answer.

"Fine, it's yours. On two conditions," he adds.

"And those are?"

"We open it together, and I get half of whatever's in it."

Kate laughs despite herself. "I think there would be a riot if word got out that you had guns."

"Who's to see there are any guns in there? For all we know, it's paperwork about an assignment and, maybe, his lunch."

Kate tried another approach. "Jack would kill you."

"Hell, I'm not scared of your boyfriend, Freckles!"

"He's _not_ my boyfriend," Kate snaps, aware at how high school the remark sounds.

"Right. Sure." Sawyer rolls his eyes. "My apologies."

Kate glares at him. "We'll see what's in it and then divide the loot. Since I discovered it and know where the key is, which I'm guessing you don't since you want my help, I get some say over ownership."

Sawyer scoffs but nods. "All right, Freckles. We got ourselves a deal."

She extends a hand. "Give me the case."

"No way!" Sawyer laughs. "How do I know you won't just go off and hide it?"

"You really think I'd do that?" Kate asks, knowing Sawyer won't buy it. _She_ doesn't buy it.

"You play dirty," Sawyer retorts. "So, yeah, you would. It stays with me until it's opened. Unless," he adds, grinning slyly, "you want to hold hands and carry it with me. 'Course, then we might get a little distracted with other activities."

"You're sick."

Sawyer just laughs. "You kissed me once already. You think doing more wouldn't be fun?"

Kate's face turns hard. "That was a dirty trick. I had actually thought you were okay until you made us believe you had Shannon's medicine."

Sawyer stops walking. "Hey, did any one of you ask? No, just assume that Sawyer took the meds. Well, let me tell you something, Freckles. When you assume…"

"Yeah, I know the expression. Still not buying it. That went beyond being a jerk, and you know it."

Sawyer doesn't say anything, partly because he knows it's true, but mostly because Kate looks unbelievably cute when she's mad and he wants to enjoy the view for a little.

"Let's go back and get some supplies."

Sawyer nods. Once they reach the camp, they receive some odd looks as Kate grabs her bag and two makeshift shovels, but she ignores them. Jack's not there. He's probably helping some hypochondriac with a headache who's convinced it's a brain tumor.

They walk in silence for awhile, and finally Kate speaks up.

"Okay, we're here. Start digging."

"You're not gonna help, Freckles?"

She exhales loudly, getting on her knees. Her jeans are going to be disgusting by the time they're finished. Not to mention her arms. She'll need to go for another swim just to get out half of the dirt. Once again, she misses the convenience of having a washing machine. Even of having soap.

They dig for awhile in silence. They've almost reached the body when Kate's stomach starts to growl. She ignores it, but Sawyer snickers.

"Hungry, freckles?"

Kate wipes her dirt encrusted hands on her shirt. "I've got food." In response to Sawyer's look of surprise, she explains. "I told you, I was out looking for fruit before you decided to stalk me."

She takes out an apple and begins to munch on it. Sawyer continues to dig, but soon Kate hears his stomach growling.

Before she can laugh, he asks, "Got any more of those?"

Kate looks up from collecting the seeds from the core—it can't hurt to try and plant them, even if it will take several years from them to produce fruit—and nods.

"Well, can I have it? I'm about starving here, and you're on your lunch break." His voice drips with sarcasm, but it has been several hours since they've had breakfast.

She tosses the seeds to one hand, reaching in her bag with the free one to remove a second apple. Sawyer takes it eagerly, more so than he normally would, and begins to chomp on it. He doesn't even wipe his hands off on his jeans, so dirt covers the apple as he eats. Kate, who is not exactly the cleanest person in the world, makes a face at this.

"You're eating dirt."

Sawyer laughs. "I read somewhere that humans swallow a certain amount of dirt every year."

Kate doesn't reply, but continues to dig. Just a few more inches and they'll have the body. And, hopefully, the key.

Sawyer interrupts her reverie. "Got any more?"

Kate sighs, not completely due to her thoughts being disturbed. "Yes."

"Well, can I have another piece of fruit?" he asks with exaggerated patience. "Maybe you're not hungry, but I ain't a freakin' bunny rabbit."

It isn't that she minds that Sawyer never helps out around camp while she, Jack, and a few other people do most of the heavy labor. Nor that Sawyer's asking her instead of just taking it, which is more like his character. She can't place it.

Wordlessly, she takes another apple from the bag and hands it to Sawyer.

"Thanks, Sassafras," he says as he devours the piece of fruit.

"Give me the core when you're done. We can plant the seeds," Kate commands, not looking at him as she resumes her digging. She can almost see an arm, so the pockets can't be far off. Hopefully the key is still there, and hadn't fallen out with all of the commotion on the plane.

Sawyer grunts noncommittally. A few minutes later, he resumes digging, but not before placing the core aside.

It's starting to get dark, and even with the progress they've made, Kate knows there's no point in continuing until the following day. Even with a fire, they won't be able to distinguish the key from the dirt.

Still, it's stupid to try and sleep without a fire. Kate looks around for wood for a few minutes, returns to the grave site, and lights a match.

The temperature feels like it dropped twenty degrees, but Kate tries to ignore it. She clenches her teeth together so that Sawyer can't see them chattering. Maybe he's doing the same thing.

She notices that he's also been looking for wood. His pile isn't as large as hers, but it's something. She stretches out on the grass about five feet from the fire. She puts her face towards the flames and smiles, involuntarily, as it starts to warm up.

They should have brought blankets, but the project took a lot longer than either of them had expected. Sawyer's lying down now, next to Kate. They're maybe one foot apart. Well, if he thinks she's going to give him _that,_ he's mistaken. She rolls over on her side away from him, and he snickers.

She wakes up suddenly in the middle of the night. Sawyer's putting more logs on the fire. He's looking at her with something almost resembling fondness.

"Hey, Freckles," he says as he piles the last log on the flames. "You warm enough?"

Kate doesn't answer, but when Sawyer goes to lie down next to her, closer this time, she doesn't turn away. His arm falls over her head and even though she shrugs it off, she finds that she's moved closer to him. They're not cuddling, but her head is nestled around his arm. When he pulls some hair out of her face, Kate doesn't turn away. Of course, she's half asleep by then.

They must have moved closer during the night, though, because when Kate wakes up she finds that Sawyer's arms are wrapped around her neck and she's using the edge of his stomach as a pillow. The realization almost makes her jump out of his grip, but the island is still cold at this hour and the position isn't horribly uncomfortable.

Sawyer does wake up before long, and Kate tries to extract her upper half from his arms before he can figure out what happened.

Not that it does much good.

"Sleep well, Freckles?" he asks after stretching. "Was I warm enough for you?"

She flushes and doesn't answer. She concentrates on the fire or, to be more accurate, the pile of burnt logs. She wipes her hands on her jeans and searches her bag for more fruit. This morning, she's starving. She knows there were five apples when they started, and she's hungry enough to eat the entire two remaining. Cores and all. She finds one but can't find the second.

"Yeah, I ate it last night," Sawyer explains when she glances at him. "Count it as breakfast."

Kate tries not to let her frustration show. After devouring the last apple, she's still hungry, but there's no fruit around here. Best to just keep digging, find the key, and then return to camp. There, she'll look for food and spend at least an hour trying to get the grime off. She's never felt this dirty before.

They find the key in under an hour—or rather, Sawyer does—and Sawyer unlocks the briefcase. There are, as Kate had predicted, guns and ammunition inside. Also cash, which Sawyer grabs eagerly. Realizing that it's useless on the island, Kate lets this go. She does, however, spot the white envelope with the words "Personal Effects" scrawled on the front. She takes his before Sawyer can claim it, hands shaking.

"What's in there?" Sawyer asks as Kate's about to pocket it.

"I don't know. But you took the cash, so this is mine."

"That ain't fair, Freckles. We don't even know what's inside."

Kate opens the envelope and, sure enough, finds Tom's plane. Sawyer, if anything, looks disappointed.

"Keep it," he says. "Piece of junk." He glances at the guns and ammo. "I guess you want two of 'em?"

Kate stands up. "I think we should give them to Jack for safe keeping."

Sawyer rolls his eyes. "Tell you what. You can give yours to Jack. I'm keeping mine."

"He'll know you have them."

"Yeah? What's the doc gonna do?" Sawyer almost sneered.

"Your choice."

Sawyer places the guns back in the case and shuts it. "Why'd you want the plane?"

Kate doesn't say anything.

"That's why you wanted the case, ain't it? You didn't care about the guns."

Kate stays silent, but knows that the pieces suddenly fit together in Sawyer's head.

"You knew him, didn't you? Were _you_ the fugitive?"

She faces Sawyer, face hardened. "You better not say anything to anyone."

Sawyer puts his hands up. "All right, all right!"

Kate realizes she's breathing hard. "I mean it, Sawyer."

"I won't say a thing to anyone." Sawyer looks sincere, almost concerned. "But the airplane?"

"It's personal, okay?" Kate almost snaps. "I don't owe you an explanation."

Sawyer rolls his eyes. "Someone's cranky today. Look, Kate…" She turns away and he reaches out to put an arm around her shoulder. "I won't tell, okay? Mum's the word. Not that anyone would believe me." He paused. "Does anyone know?"

"Just Jack."

"What did you do?"

Kate sighed. "I helped get my mom out of a bad situation. I did what I had to."

"Kate…"

"Forget it, okay."

It's not a request.

Sawyer tries not to wince. Even without knowing the whole story, he's on Kate's side.

"All right, Freckles." Before he loses his nerve, Sawyer wraps an arm around Kate's shoulder.

At first, it seems like she's going to pull away. Maybe even hit him. But she doesn't. She even—and maybe this is just Sawyer's imagination—leans into the hug.

They stay like that for a few minutes. Awkwardly, Sawyer pulls his other arm around Kate's back. It's a definite hug now. If anyone at camp saw them, he'd never live it down.

To hell with the rest of them.

Sawyer's not sure why he does this. Maybe it's because Kate seems relaxed, wrapped in his arms. Maybe he has some kind of a death wish.

He kisses her.


	2. Chapter 2

At first, Kate accepts the kiss, but then the power of thinking resumes. She pulls away from Sawyer, quickly.

It's not really him. Kate's kissed Sawyer before, enjoyed it then.

This one was at least twice as good.

Not here, though. Not a few feet from the marshal's dead—albeit reburied—body.

She keeps thinking about the marshal and hearing his comments in her head. It's so typical of him to intrude even after he's dead. He was one of the biggest jerks she had ever known. He made her stepfather—technically her father—seem nice in comparison. Kate knew that he was just trying to do his job by tracking her down for three years, but he took more pleasure in the darker aspects of his job than he had any right. He was malicious, even cruel. Kate wasn't a human being in his eyes, just a cold blooded killer. He had guessed why she killed her stepfather but took delight in goading her.

Kate was almost glad when Jack killed him, even if it was just to put him out of his pain.

Now, she's stepping away, a move that she knows will frustrate Sawyer.

"No," she whispers, more to herself than to him.

Sawyer raises his hands in defeat. "Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to."

Kate rolls her eyes.

"Well, okay, maybe I _did_ mean to, Freckles."

Kate cracks a grin. "Just not here, okay?"

"But somewhere else?"

Sawyer can't help it—he looks like a kid in a candy store. Instead of being scolded for grabbing the big chocolate bar, he's told he can get it, but he can't eat it all right away.

Kate's smile fades slightly, the memory of the marshal still vivid. "Let's get back to camp first."

Sawyer grins. "Anything you say, sweetheart."

They walk towards camp, Sawyer standing a little closer to Kate than he normally would.

Then again, maybe it's her imagination.

"Jack would probably kill us both," she muses as they arrive at their destination.

It's not that she likes Jack. But she wants his approval. Kate never had siblings while she was growing up, and Jack's sort of like the big brother she never had.

Except there's occasional flirting between them—mostly on her side. Whereas with Sawyer, he initiates everything. Like the kiss in exchange for the "information" concerning the inhalers.

She goes with Jack when there's something to do, when someone has to help the camp. Not to mention the fact that she likes adventures. Perhaps a little too much. But when things are calm—or as calm as they get here—she spends time with Sawyer. Part of it is a crush, part of it is mild revulsion for his parasitic habits, but most of it is that he's fun to be around. He might be rude, but he's funny. Kate's beginning to realize that he enjoys getting to people, but he wouldn't try to hurt someone on purpose.

Probably.

Sawyer's reply echoes her thoughts. "I can take him, sweetheart."

Why can't he just stick with "Freckles"? Even if he means it ironically, Kate doesn't like the term. Wayne used it with her mom a lot. Often when he was _not_ drunk and probably meant it.

Kate makes a face. "Stick with 'Freckles', Sawyer. Okay?"

"Whatever you want, Freckles." There's a long pause. "Thought you guys weren't dating."

"We're not…"

Well, not entirely. She knows that there were people who thought they were together, even potentially sleeping together. Kate certainly cares about Jack, would be distraught if something happened to him, but her feelings towards him are generally not romantic. For one thing, Jack is the leader of the group, and would always be that first. Always judging her, always giving orders. It wouldn't work for her. She didn't want to be with someone who told her what to do, even if he thought he had her best interests at heart. That wasn't a boyfriend: that was a parent.

Or at least an older sibling.

Maybe Jack was more like the second cousin from another state. The kind you only saw a couple of times a year at family gatherings. A blood relation, but not close enough that it was illegal to marry.

Just as weird, though.

Apparently, there are those who don't understand the distinction and still think the two of them would result in something other than incest.

Or practically incest. Jack isn't _technically_ related to her.

Sawyer, on the other hand, is someone Kate _get_. More anti-social than the men she usually dated, and certainly more hated by the general public. After all, he had been a con artist. Still, she felt a pull towards him since their first conversation, since the first time he called her "freckles". Maybe Jack is better for her, whatever that meant, but Kate knows he's more like distant family.

Sawyer is still waiting. Expectant.

"You know that he's the leader," she tries to explain. "You're not one of his favorite people."

"You need the doc's approval."

"Unless it's a one time thing." She pauses half a second before adding, "Which I don't do."

Sawyer's expression changes from expectant to incredulous. "Doesn't have to be a one night stand, Freckles."

Kate sighs. "I don't know. What I do know is that we're all living together, so everyone pretty much knows everyone else's business."

Sawyer swore. "Damn it, Freckles, who _cares_ what they think?"

Kate tries another approach. "Rescue could come, so anything we do here won't matter afterwards..."

Sawyer gives her an incredulous look. "You want to wait for rescue, rescue that hasn't come yet, I should add. So that you can save face with the rest of these people? You were a convict, Kate. I wouldn't have taken you for someone who'd be scared by gossip."

Kate runs a hand through her hair without thinking. "Let's take it slow."

Sawyer nods. "We can do that."

Kate smirks. "As though you have a choice."

Sawyer snorts noncommittally. He changes the subject. "To camp?"

Kate stares at him blankly.

"You're supposed to say 'to camp', and then we start singing the theme to the Wizard of Oz. Except the wizard is Jack and I reckon the lion's Hurley…Jin's the tin man and you're Dorothy."

Kate suddenly can't breath—she's laughing so hard. Sawyer grins.

"Watched too much TV as a kid," he admitted. "I had mono for one month and all we got were shows like Little House and occasionally a movie for kids."

"Does that make you the scarecrow?" Kate manages.

"Hey, I got a brain!" Sawyer mock snarls. "Maybe I'm the wizard."

Kate rolls her eyes and begins walking towards the direction of camp. "I'm not too sure about that."


	3. Chapter 3

Jack seems surprised when Sawyer hands over the guns and ammunition without protest when they return to camp. "Surprised" being a mild term.

"Thanks, Sawyer," he manages. "These will be good to have."

Sawyer just grunts and walks away. Jack turns to Kate.

"Were these from the case?"

"Yeah." She doesn't want to say more, but she knew from the start that Jack would have questions.

"How'd he get it open? Not to mention, how'd you get him to hand them over?"

Kate smiles. "I told him I knew where the key was. There was other stuff in the briefcase. Money, for one thing. I let him take that because it's useless here."

"True, but guns aren't exactly useless…"

Kate wills her face not to turn red. "I made it clear it was in his best interest to let you hold onto them for safe keeping."

"I see." Jack smiles knowingly, which Kate hates. "So, you and him?"

Damn. Was it that obvious?

"I don't know yet."

A lie. She knows her feelings for Sawyer, has known them for awhile. She's fairly sure Sawyer is, at the very least, attracted to her. It's possible that he thinks they'll have sex a few times and that will be it. Then again—and Kate hates herself for thinking this—it's not as though there are a ton of attractive females who can stand him. Sawyer's done a good job at putting himself on the outside.

Unless the Others have lots of single women who like sarcastic, greedy southerners, Kate's pretty sure there won't be competition.

Is it her imagination, or does Jack look hurt?

"Well." He pauses, tries to smile. "Be careful."

Kate nods. "I know."

"Last thing you want is to have to give birth here, Kate. It's going to be hard enough figuring out what we're going to do with Claire."

Kate nods again. It's a sobering thought.

"Not to mention, he might have STDs," Jack adds. "You should find out before you guys do anything."

It makes sense, and Kate can see the logic behind it, but it's too much to think about right now. Especially from him. She'd rather have this conversation with Claire…or any female on the island.

"I'm going to take it slow."

"Does he know that?" Jack asks pointedly.

"I got it, Jack," she says, a little sharper than she intends. "Enough with the lecture."

"Sorry." Jack glances at the guns again. "I'm going to find somewhere safe to hide these. We're running low on firewood. Think you could find some?"

"Sure."

Anything to be out of there.

She heads to her tent and places the airplane inside one of the outside compartments of her suitcase. She stares at it for a few minutes before zipping it up.

Kate grabs a (relatively) clean change of clothes and heads off to the caves. She checks to make sure no one's there, and then strips down to her bra and underwear before stepping in the water. It's colder than usual, and it sends shivers up her spine. Kate immerses herself before she loses her nerve.

A half an hour later, Kate pulls on her clean pair of jeans and shirt. Her teeth chatter, and she wishes she had a bathrobe. Or at least a towel. All of a sudden, she's tired. Looking for wood will have to come later. Or maybe Jack will forget he asked her if Kate doesn't say anything. Fighting back a yawn, Kate pulls on her shoes, grabs her dirty clothes, and heads back to her tent.

Sawyer's standing about ten feet away from her and gives her a nod. She notices that he's wearing a different pair of shorts and shirt. Kate gives him a tired smile before stepping into the tent. She's glad to have a blanket and looks forward to taking a long nap. Sawyer's glance follows her as she pulls it around her shoulders.

She can't get comfortable. She's still wet and now the blanket is too. She could sleep on top of it, but that would be too cold.

Kate tries to readjust the blanket, but droplets of water from her hair fall down and soak it.

Damn.

Maybe Claire will lend her one…

Kate starts to get up but Sawyer's standing in the entrance, blocking her.

Her face hardens. Now is so not the time for this.

"I got more of those," he offers, looking at the discarded blanket. "You want one?"

She wants to say something snarky, but Sawyer's tone makes it clear that he's being sincere. After a minute of just standing there, Kate nods.

He smiles, looking absolutely adorable. "Be right back."

Kate pulls the blanket over the ground before sitting down. The sense of exhaustion heightens. Sawyer returns, stepping inside the tent and carrying a large blue wad of cloth. Kate smiles, takes the mass, and pulls it over her as she lies down. She expects Sawyer to leave, but he's still there. She turns on her side and realize that he's spreading the blanket over her entire body.

What's more, he's tucking it under her body. Kate feels like a mix between a mummy and a small child. Her eyes close, and she lets out a contented sigh. The warm seeps into her, but Sawyer's still there. She can smell his presence, a mix of leaves and some other smell she can't place.

"How's that?" Sawyer asks once he's finally finished.

"Good," Kate murmurs, half asleep.

He pulls some stray strands of hair out of her eyes. Her face turns towards his hand, as though by instinct.

"You going to stay?"

"If you want me to." Sawyer's sitting down now, only a foot or so away from Kate. One of his hands remains positioned on her head. He starts to stroke her hair, disguising it at first by pulling it back from her face. Her breathing starts to become heavy…

Sawyer's still there when she wakes up. He's sitting in a corner, leaning against the suitcase, reading a book. She can't make out the title. It's probably _Watership Down._

Feeling well rested, and as warm as though she has woken up in bed at her apartment, she stretches and sits up. Everything's blurred, a common experience she faces upon waking. She rubs her eyes and the images sharpen. Kate feels self conscious as Sawyer bends over the page and places the book on her suitcase. He's watching her every move.

"Well, hey there, sleeping beauty," he says, smiling.

"Hi, Sawyer," she replies, sitting up and stretching.

"Sleep well?"

"Pretty good," she says, looking down at the blankets.

Yes, blankets. Sawyer must have found her another one when she was sleeping. The one on top is bright yellow, almost as big as the blue one underneath it. Easily as soft. Kate remembers shopping for that kind for her apartment, even while on the run. She can't remember the brand, but it's one of the things she's missed. And now it's here. She smiles to herself.

She's no longer tired, but she's too comfortable to move. The blankets feel so soft against her skin, and she's very warm.

"Were you here the whole time?"

"No. Had to get the wood while Miss Sleepyhead over here got her beauty rest."

Kate makes a face. "Well, unless you want a zombie on your hands…"

Sawyer holds his arms up in mock surrender. "I'm just teasin.'"

Her face breaks out into a grin. "I know."

"So, what d'you want to do today? Got any more adventures to get you?"

As Sawyer speaks, he's helping Kate up. She nearly scoffs. As though she's some helpless woman who can't stand up without support. Still, it says something that Sawyer's attempting something resembling chivalric behavior. It can't continue for long—she'd go crazy within a few days—but given that it's _Sawyer_, she doesn't expect it to.

Still, Kate manages to retort, "I can walk by myself."

He doesn't look offended. If anything, Sawyer appears amused. "Well excuse me, Xena," he replies. "Next time, I'll remember to shove you in a ditch."

"You couldn't," she says, grinning evilly. "You're way too slow. You'd probably fall into a ditch trying to save me from a wild polar bear."

"You're right," Sawyer nods, still holding her arm as they walk outside the tent. "I should have been helping the poor polar bear."

"You do that and I'll find the boar that's been driving you crazy. I'm sure she'd be able to convince the polar bear to help in her quest to ruin your life."

Sawyer says nothing, at first, and then, without any kind of warning, proceeds to tickle Kate mercilessly.

"Hey!" she shrieks between peals of laughter.

He stops, and Kate glares at him. "Not. Funny," she growls.

"Eh, I was it was, Sassafras."

She grunts, storming ahead of him. Kate's not exactly mad, but she's annoyed that Sawyer has managed to con her.

How in the world did he know that she was ticklish?

Lucky guess, maybe.

It _better_ have been.

Well, now she'll just make him wait until week before they progress to anything past making out.

_That'll_ show him.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This chapter takes place from Sawyer's point of view. It kind of starts up where chapter two leaves off, but goes further than where chapter three ends. I might do more chapters from his point of view, or two dual POV chapters, depending on how well this works out. If you have any thoughts, please let me know.

Sawyer can feel their eyes on him as they enter the camp. He clutches the suitcase tightly, wondering if it's too late to remove some of the guns for his stash.

Kate has made a good point, though. Sawyer can't afford to alienate the doc after the incident with the medication and the blonde girl. Whatever the hell her name was. Jack seems like a reasonable guy, but Sawyer knows better.

Besides, he stole Kate from under the doc. Maybe she thinks the two were never together, but he sees how Jack looks at her.

It's kind of pathetic, because Jack might care about her but he doesn't accept her. It's like anything she does won't be good enough. He'll sigh and clean up her messes, but make it clear that it's _her_ mess and _he's_ the one who's fixing things. Maybe he has this notion that he's a knight in shining armor, rescuing the damsel in distress. But Sawyer and—more important—Kate know better.

Sawyer likes that Kate is, or was, a fugitive. She's been a mystery since the first day, and this information feels almost as tangible as her wild hair or her freckles.

What did she _do_? It must have been awful for them to send a US marshal up to Australia to hunt her down. On the other hand, it could have been a misunderstanding. Like those people who get put on death row but were innocent the whole time.

What had Freckles said? Something like, "I helped save my mom from a bad situation." So, whatever she had done, it was to protect her mom.

Maybe her _mother_ was the convict and Kate was taking the blame. Sawyer could picture her doing this. It wasn't inconsistent with everything else he had seen. Kate was always the go getter, the adventurer. If there was a life or death situation, she'd be there.

Sawyer wouldn't ask right away. He wanted to know, but he didn't need to know. He had what he wanted. He'd rather have Kate and no information than potentially false information and no Kate.

And the doctor giving him those smug "I told you so" glances whenever he saw Sawyer.

No, he definitely did not want _that_.

He would figure her out, though. Hadn't be done the same thing in prison? Conned the guards to get someone who had played even dirtier than him. Hell, he even got paid for it!

He still hated Cassidy for turning him in. Hadn't he made it clear he didn't want to rob her? That otherwise they'd try to kill her?

Women.

Now, Sawyer's looking around, but he can't find Kate. He thinks maybe she said something about showering.

He smiles to himself. A swim doesn't seem like such a bad idea. He rummages through his tent, finds a change of clothes, and heads to the caves. He doesn't bother removing his clothes before jumping in. Hell, this way it's two birds with one stone. After he's finished, he does swap the wet shirt and shorts for the dry one.

Sawyer heads to his camp, picks up _Watership Down_, and starts to read. He doesn't get far before he sees Kate walking towards her tent, carrying her old clothes over her shoulder. She smiles and nods at him.

Well, that's all the encouragement he needs. He stands up, heads toward her tent. She's trying to get comfortable under a blanket. "Trying" being the operative word.

He wants to make a comment about them not needing it except for pretenses, but catches himself. Kate actually looks tired. She clearly didn't sleep too well the night before, despite his being there as a pillow/bed combination.

"I got more of those," Sawyer says, nodding to the blanket.

Kate looks up hopefully, but doesn't say anything.

Damn it, he's going to have to be direct. "You want one?"

She doesn't say anything for the longest time. Sawyer's about to leave when he catches her nodding.

Maybe this whole thing is new to her too. He manages a smile. "Be right back."

He searches his things for the warmest blanket he can find that doesn't look too girly. He settles on a blue one, but reminds himself about the yellow one next to it. He picks it up, ignores the stares from the other survivors, and walks into Kate's tent as though he owns the place.

She's lying on the wet blanket. Sawyer rolls his eyes. That can't be comfortable. He shakes out the blue comforter and spreads it around Kate. At first, he's not going to do more, but when he sees her face soften, he does too. He tucks it in around her, relishing the opportunity to touch her. She's sighing now, her eyes closed.

Sawyer knows he should leave, but he can't. Stalling, he speaks.

"How's that?"

Kate mumbles something he can't understand, but guesses is positive. He sits down awkwardly, noticing all the hair in her face. Awkwardly, he picks up pieces of it and puts it behind her ears. He's not sure how she'll react to this, but she almost smiles.

Her eyes open. They're so green. He always knew she had green eyes, but they're striking.

"You going to stay?" she asks.

Does she want him to?

"If you want me to," Sawyer replies tentatively. He's not sure what game she's playing.

For once, he doesn't know the rules. Hasn't made them up.

Then again, maybe she just doesn't like falling asleep on her own. Sawyer's known women like that. They were probably scared of monsters in the closet as kids.

Sawyer can't picture Kate being afraid of much, but he's only known her a few weeks.

She doesn't object, so he sits down. He continues the long process of removing hair from Kate's face. She doesn't say anything, so maybe she likes it.

_He_ does. Her face is soft and he has a good view of her freckles. There are so many of them. He starts to count them, but loses track. Kate's breathing becomes heavy and she rolls over on her side, nearly crushing Sawyer's hand. It takes enormous self restraint for Sawyer to refrain from jumping up and letting out a few swear words.

Kate's head settles back into position. Sawyer eyes her wearily. Kate's hair is back in his face, but he's not sure if he wants to risk losing a limb.

"Damn it, Freckles," he mutters under his breath. He begins moving the hair away. Slightly less gentle this time.

He's debating whether to lie down next to her when Kate starts snoring. It's so startling Sawyer has to work hard not to laugh. They aren't huge snores, more like grunts. It's cute. He knows he'll have to tease her about it later. A new nickname is in order. He ponders this issue for awhile.

Kate also moves around a lot in her sleep. Several times, Sawyer has to readjust the blanket. At one point, her moving arm almost smacks him on the nose.

She sure is violent. Sleeping with her, in any sense of the word, might get him killed.

He can tell that her hair is still wet, and droplets are falling onto the blanket. She's getting cold again.

Sawyer heads out to his tent, removes the yellow blanket, and drapes it over her. It's more soft than warm, but it looks big enough to be king sized, so it can't hurt. On his way back, he runs into Hurley.

"Hey, dude," the obese puppy greets.

Sawyer grunts. "Do me a favor, okay?"

The puppy grins uncertainly. "Sure, what do you need, Sawyer?"

"The doc asked Kate to get some wood, but she's…not feeling well." Sawyer smirks. "Can you do it?"

"Sure, dude, no problem!"

Sawyer lets out a sigh of relief as he heads back to Kate's tent. Granted, now everyone will know about their relationship before noon the next day. That could be a problem.

He shrugs. He'll deal with it later.

Her snores are sporadic now. Sawyer remains seated, wanting to lie next to her, but not daring to take that step. She wants things slow, and the last thing Sawyer needs is the doc to accuse him of rape.

Sawyer keeps a close eye on her but finally leaves the tent to get his book. He's read three chapters before she starts to stir.

Sawyer lowers the book. She's smiling, nestled under the blankets. Freckles rubs her eyes, probably confused, and then looks around the room.

"Well, hey there, sleeping beauty," he greets, watching her.

Her response is more reserved. "Hi, Sawyer."

"Sleep well?" he asks, though he's watched her practically the whole time.

"Pretty good," she mumbles.

Her hands finger the blankets, and Sawyer knows that she knows that he gave her an extra one while she was sleeping. Sawyer wants to make a remark about her looking cold, but doesn't. If Kate thinks he's being sweet for doing it, then he's not going to try and change her mind.

"Were you here the whole time?" she asks suddenly, looking up from the makeshift bed.

"No. Had to get the wood while Miss Sleepyhead over here got her beauty rest."

Well, so he had Hurley get the wood. Same thing.

Kate makes a face and Sawyer wonders what she thinks of her new nickname. Is it too much? He'll wait a few days before using it again.

"Well, unless you want a zombie on your hands…"

Sawyer extends his arms as though she's going to shoot him. "I'm just teasin,'" he mumbles.

She's smiling at him now. Sawyer feels his heart skip a beat.

"I know." He voice is soft, almost reassuring.

It's Sawyer's turn to speak, so he does so without thing. "So, what d'you want to do today? Got any more adventures to get you?"

At this point, he's helping her up, only to realize too late that Kate's not the type of person to enjoy being helped. At anything. Hell, she'd rather bleed to death than be carried back to camp.

"I _can_ walk by myself," she grumbles, trying to fight him off.

Yeah, she sure is stubborn.

He makes some remark about shoving her in a ditch and then verbal banter resumes. She's actually pretty good at it, and Sawyer's grinning like an idiot before long.

Kate goes too far when she says the polar bear should try to help the inane boar to kill him. He grabs her and tickles her, something he's never actually done but has seen on TV a few times.

_Oh shit, she's gonna be pissed_, Sawyer realizes too late.

She is, but not horribly. Mostly annoyed, probably wondering how Sawyer found out.

Well, duh. Weren't all women ticklish?

"You almost broke my arm earlier," he complains.

Kate raises her eyebrows. "When was this?"

"In your sleep."

Kate nearly snorts. "I must have had a good reason."

"You didn't."

"Uh huh…"

She moves toward one of the trees and begins climbing. "Want one?" she calls down.

"What are they?" Sawyer asks.

"Looks like apples or mangos. Can't tell from here." She's halfway up the tree now.

Sawyer starts to follow her. The branches are thick and sturdy. He's not exactly fond of climbing trees, but Kate will tease him if he refuses. Besides, he doubts that he'll fall if he takes it slow.

It's harder than it looks. By the time they reach the middle of the tree, he's panting. The tree has this forked indentation in the middle, wide enough for a few people to stand, or lean on branches, if they can climb that high. It's also near all the fruit. Kate's made it this far easily and now munches on an apple.

Kate watches him tackle the last few feet in amusement. He's concentrating so hard. She resists the urge to throw the apple core past him. It wouldn't hit Sawyer, but the surprise might make him fall. She manages not to snigger at the image.

"Need some help?" she asks. She extends a hand, which Sawyer ignores and promptly wishes he hadn't.

"Stubborn…" she grumbles.

He's reached the break now. Still panting, he slings himself over one of the thicker branches, glad to be able to sit down. He's inches away from Kate.

"You made it." Kate grins.

"Barely." He closes his eyes. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Lots of trees where I grew up," she explains. "Besides, the best fruit's higher up."

"I'll take your word for it, Freckles." He grabs an apple and starts to chew. "You want the seeds from this one, too?"

Kate's trying not to look pleased that he remembers. Sawyer makes a mental note of it.

"Where are you going to plant them?"

"Sun started a garden a few days ago," Kate explains. "The boar have been scarce, so it makes sense to start planning ahead."

"Did she tell you this?"

"No, I just found her working on it. I've been helping."

"How? Not like you two can communicate."

Kate rolls her eyes. "It's not brain surgery. I show her the seeds, she points where to plant them. We do a lot of digging and weeding. The ground hasn't been used for this, or not in awhile, so we have to start over." At Sawyer's puzzled look, she clarifies. "No fertilizer. No mulch. That kind of thing."

"Can you show it to me?"

"Sure, if you can get down from the tree without breaking your other leg."

With that, she climbs down easily, leaving Sawyer to ponder how to accomplish the same task. He looks down. He's easily fifteen feet from the ground.

"Can you make it?" Kate calls.

"I got up, didn't I?" Sawyer retorts.

"_Barely_," he hears her mutter.


	5. Chapter 5

The following week passes without much incident. Kate spends a lot of the day planting seeds, collecting fruit, or engaged in other island related tasks. Sawyer spends his time reading and some time looking through his looted materials for other books to read. In front of others, Kate and Sawyer maintain the appearance of annoyance towards the other.

This idea came primarily from Kate. With over forty people, less chance of rescue as each day passed, and Jack's eyes on her, she doesn't want to attract attention. Or rather, as Sawyer pointed out, she doesn't want to attract unnecessary negative attention.

It makes sense. No one except himself and Jack know that she's the fugitive, and neither know what Kate did to be flying with the marshal. To everyone else, she seems quiet yet assertive and, as Sawyer put it, "always ready to go on an adventure". If people had to write a list of five people who risked the most on a daily basis to help the others, Kate's name would be on the list. Jack, being a doctor, would be number one. Kate would probably be second or third.

John Locke would also make the list, but he didn't exactly inspire people's trust. He had a darker side. Kate's lack of answers could be attributed to a quiet personality, but Locke was always picking what information to reveal and what information to keep secret.

As far as Sawyer was concerned, if they ever made it off the island, he'd never talk to most of these people again. For one thing, they lived in different states. For another, they didn't interest him.

Except Kate.

Things are different between himself and Kate now that they see themselves as an item. They haven't had sex. They don't even kiss much. Part of this is because of Kate. Kate's still withdrawn, for whatever reason, and holds Sawyer at an arm's length. Often, Sawyer will sleep in Kate's tent, but she will not sleep in his. He's asked her about it and she says it's an old habit.

"When I get used to sleeping in one place, I can't switch," she says, apologetically.

Sawyer can't say he minds this. After all, his tent is where he stores his stash, and if Kate spends too much time there, she'll see where he's hidden all the loot.

Not that he'd object to giving her shampoo or toothpaste or painkillers. He just doesn't want the topic to come up so he has to share. Hell, it's not like they're married. If she won't have sex with him, why should she get her pick of Sawyer's goods?

The blankets—which Sawyer still hasn't reclaimed—are another story. It's not as though anyone's going to freeze to death on a tropical island. Some of them have gone to the caves for the cooler temperature. Even though at night, it's actually _cold_ in the caves and not exactly swimming weather on the beach. Point is, Sawyer may have taken most of the ones on the plane and some belonging to the dead bodies, but they're as worthless as pennies. They're like dirt. You don't need it but it's always there.

He loves watching Freckles sleep, rolled up in two like some kind of hibernating animal. Loves holding her and tucking them under her arms, neck, and legs. Hearing her small sighs as he does this. She thinks if she's quiet about it he won't know, but Sawyer can tell these small actions mean a lot to her.

Right now, Sawyer's holding her as she sleeps. He's not tired and manages a half sitting, half laying down position. His arms hug her waist, tight enough to hold her securely but not enough to keep her from breathing deeply. She's had nightmares before, twice, and Sawyer has an easier time waking her up this way. After the first one, he'd been sleeping normally and only woke up when he heard her screaming.

At first, he thought it was one of the Others, waiting and ready to kidnap her. He's up in an instant, only to realize no one's there except Kate. Who's still not entirely awake. When he tries to wake her, he gets punched in the nose. Nothing's broken, but it still feels sore.

The second time was easier. She squirmed and tried to fight against his grip, but Sawyer's voice calms her down once Kate realizes it was just a dream. He's never been one to comfort others, and Kate certainly doesn't seem like she needs it, but now it's been twice since the nightmares returned. Kate won't volunteer the information readily—Sawyer doesn't ask—and holding her seems to help her fall back asleep.

That, and stroking her hair. Even though she's told him that she's not a cat the first few times he's done it, Sawyer knows Kate well enough to realize she's defensive, not annoyed. He'd be the same way. For that reason, he continues.

He looks down at Kate. She's snoring a little, and her breath feels warm against his hands. It reminds him of when his grandparents had to turn on the heater in the trailer and he'd sit near it, dangling his feet in front of the vent.

Her head turns so that it's rested on his right shoulder. It's the injured one, but he doesn't try to move it. Hell, it's not like it hurts that much.

She mutters something in her sleep and then stirs, eyes opening.

"Hey Freckles," Sawyer says.

She mumbles something he doesn't catch, turns her head over so that her face is buried in his shirt, and resumes snoring. Sawyer lets out a low chuckle before lying down. It's late, and maybe he'll be able to sleep now. Not that he has plans for the next day. He wants to spend some of it with Kate, assuming the Doc doesn't throw a million chores her way.

Jack's jealous. It's obvious. Maybe he took it for granted that they'd end up together, and now Sawyer's presence makes him rethink things. Guess he didn't know Kate only saw him as an older brother.

He smirks again and tries to stretch without bothering Kate. She mutters something again in her sleep and then continues snoring.

It's not loud. It's kind of cute, really. She denies snoring whenever he tries to broach the subject. It's a good way to get a rise out of her, even.

Sawyer's eyes close and he maneuvers his way into the blankets. Kate's done a good job warming them up. Within seconds, he's asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Slowly, the rest of the camp realizes Kate and Sawyer are a couple. They don't say much to either of them, but Kate knows they talk about it behind their backs.

"I wish they hadn't found out," she tells Sawyer as they return from a swim. It's been on her mind for the last few days.

She's been obsessing about it instead of thinking about what happened with Boone and Locke. Boone's death was uncanny. Kate doesn't think Locke is capable of murder. He seems too nice for that. But couldn't people say that about her? Anyway, thinking about how everyone reacts toward her and Sawyer lets her not think about the most recent death in their group.

Claire may or may not be dead, but she has been missing for some time. Last thing she heard, the Others had captured her. It was entirely possible they forced her to join their group. Perhaps they killed the baby in some sort of ritual sacrifice. Or maybe Claire hadn't delivered yet and that was what they were planning after she did.

Their motives were unclear and it wasn't as though they acted like sane people.

Yes, thinking about how everyone perceived her and Sawyer was easier than facing some of the more recent events.

Sawyer's only partly aware of what's going through her head. He knows the recent nightmares have to do with Claire's kidnapping. Knows —or at least tells himself—that Kate won't have sex with him because she's afraid of getting pregnant. Rescue hasn't arrived and it might never arrive. People have died in childbirth before. Even now, they still did in areas without the right medical care.

Which, Sawyer knew, included this island.

He might be a man and somewhat—well more than somewhat—of a jerk at times, but he didn't want Kate to die in childbirth because he couldn't keep himself from pressuring her to do more than she wanted.

Well, at least, not unless she _wanted_ to have sex with him. He wouldn't say no to that. If she was willing, ever became willing, it was a risk they'd have to take.

In the meantime, Claire's kidnapping makes both of them realize how dangerous life here can be. Especially since her kidnapping occurred right before them finding the marshal's case, leading to their current relationship.

"Yeah, well, they know." Sawyer's matter of fact. No point in wishing things had been different. They weren't.

Still, it was too bad they hadn't crossed paths earlier. Maybe she could have talked him out of killing that poor fish guy, and helped him to find the real con man. He could have kept her safe from the police. He knew a few things from being in prison.

Kate glares at him and begins walking more quickly. Her hair, loose from the swim, bounces as she walks and, absent mindedly, she grabs a band from around her wrist and pulls it back. Sawyer has to stop himself from running up to her and removing that damn hair band. Kate should _always_ wear her hair loose, not tied up like some kind of horse's mane.

When they sleep, Sawyer always manages to find a way to remove the band, discreetly, and run his hands through Kate's hair. It's an addiction. He can't sleep unless he's holding some of it in his hands. Kate's body occupies the rest of his arms. She's taken to sleeping on his chest (which he keeps bare, even though the weather has become significantly cooler recently), right below his left shoulder. Kate's told him it makes a good pillow.

He keeps her warm, too, but Kate won't actually tell him this. It's obvious to Sawyer, though. The way she makes contented sounds when he starts to hold her. How her eyes close when he plays with her hair. The fact that they cuddle every night, Kate falling asleep curled up like a small animal, makes Sawyer happier than he'd care to admit.

It's partly for this reason that he doesn't deliberately provoke Kate into real anger. Getting a rise out of her is fine—after all, she does the same to him at least twice as often—but he doesn't want to go back to sleeping alone.

Which she's threatened to do at least twice.

So it's for this reason that her sudden change of temper gives Sawyer a sense of dread.

"Freckles, I didn't mean it like _that_!" he calls, running to catch up with her. "I just meant, you know, that they know now. That it's not like we can do anything about it."

He's caught up to her now and pulls her hair loose from the ponytail, feeling victorious. "It don't really bother you that much, does it, Freckles?" he asked in a low voice, wrapping his hands around her shoulders.

Kate wants to stay annoyed but can't. Sawyer may act like a jerk, but when he wants to make her forget her anger, he does this thing with his eyes. Like he's a hurt puppy. Kate can't stay mad when he does this.

Still, she won't let him off the hook that easily and grabs the hair band from him, defiantly pulling her wavy tresses back into her standard ponytail. She knows how he feels about pulling her hair back, and it's mostly because of this that she persists. Kate loves driving him crazy in this way, loves the tackling and tickle matches that result from this.

Not today, though. She won't let him off the hook that easily. Let Sawyer endure the cold shoulder for at least the rest of the day.

If for no other reason than it's fun to drive him crazy when he drives her insane.

Sawyer tries tickling her which ends up in a full blown tickle/tackle match. He's faster than Kate and has her laying on the ground, hair loose, staring angrily at him as he sits on top of her.

"Let me go," she snarls.

"Aw, Freckles, ain't you having fun?" he teases.

His plan is to make her lay there and tickle her for a few minutes. Then, once she's out of breath and exhausted, he'll carry her back to the tent and they'll make out. She knows this. Sawyer's pleased to know that Kate is extremely ticklish, mostly on her stomach and under her arms, but also under her neck and along her sides. A few pokes in the right spot and she's helpless. Enjoying it, but unable to stop him.

Sawyer uses this power wisely most of the time. He doesn't tickle Kate when she's sound asleep, falling asleep, or just waking up. He learned the hard way that this is a sure fire way to get Kate's cold shoulder for a full twenty-four hours.

Now certainly qualifies as appropriate. She's completely defenseless but trying to look dignified. He can practically hear her planning how to assault him with one of her head butts. But he's prepared and her attack fails.

"Damn it," she swears. "Okay, Sawyer, let me go now."

"I ain't doing anything, sweetheart," he points out, hands dangerously close to her sides.

"Not yet, but you will." She tried writhing away, pulling her arms free from him.

Sawyer lets her. After all, he's not sadistic and if Kate wants to have some power during the tickle match, he can let her.

Hell, _he_ ain't ticklish.

Her surprise gives him enough time to pull his hands against both of her ribs, knowing that this will result in peals of laughter.

"You…jerk…" she manages between giggles.

Yeah, Kate's enjoying it almost as much as he is.

The match continues for several minutes. Sawyer doesn't hold her down, thereby increasing her chance at "winning". Somehow, though, it goes too far. Maybe he shouldn't have let her turn over on her back. Or maybe tickling her sides and under her arms at the same time was asking for trouble.

She lets out a yelp, tries to move, then hisses, "Get off me."

"Freckles?" Game forgotten, he's on all fours and lifting her up.

Kate doesn't protest, which is a bad sign. She always gives some level of protest when he tries to "baby her", as she calls it. Instead, she just groans, tries to straighten her back, lets out another groan, and instantly reverts to bending over.

"Shh, it's okay. C'mere." Sawyer helps her into a sitting position. She leans against him as though she can't move on her own. Alarm bells ring. Maybe she _can't._

If he's actually hurt her, Sawyer might as well take one of Jack's guns and shoot himself. Not fatally, but at least a few bullets in the leg. It would serve him right if Freckles was really injured.

"It's sprained," she whispers. "It hurts."

She might have broken one of her bones. Bruised a rib. Busted her spine. Damn it, what was he thinking?

"Let's get you to the doc."

He hopes she'll give some snarky comment. Say something like there's no need to bother Jack, this is the best she's ever felt, considering her back might be broken. Because then it would mean that she was okay enough to use sarcasm and she'd be fine.

But she doesn't. She just winces and wraps her arms around his chest.

Sawyer's almost panicking but tries not to let it show. He tries picking Kate up, holding her back as straight as possible against him. She's not crying, but her grimace shows that she's in serious pain.

"It'll be okay." Sawyer's voice is gentle. "We're only a short ways from camp. You'll see. Jack'll look at you, give you some pills, and you'll be good as new this time tomorrow."

Kate very much doubts this but doesn't want to waste the energy talking. She focuses on Sawyer's voice as he carries her, as gently as he knows how. She tries to ignore the throbbing across her back.

A few people stare when they reach camp, but Sawyer's too preoccupied to notice and Kate hurts too much to care. They find Jack near his tent, treating Walt for some kind of cut on his shoulder. Michael's busy yelling at him, telling him if he had listened to his father and stayed where he was told, this wouldn't have happened.

"Doc, we need help," Sawyer interrupts.

Walt's done: it's just the father's yelling that's been interrupted. Michael casts a wary glance at Kate.

"What happened?" he asks, and the doc nods.

"Yeah, what _did_ happen, Sawyer?" he asks.

Why does the doc have to make it sound like such a threat?

"It's her back," Sawyer explains. "Help me lay her down."

"Not on my back!" Kate protests as they move her on her side.

"Don't worry, Kate. I'm going to place you on your stomach so I can determine the damage."

Jack's voice is irritatingly calming. Kate stays motionless as he and Sawyer attempt this maneuver. She winces visibly.

"Going to have to take off your shirt, Kate," Jack says.

Kate mutters her consent. Her back looks normal, but Jack begins poking it in various places.

"Kate? You got to let me know if any of this hurts."

"Got it," she replies in a resigned tone.

The doc goes over every inch of her back. Mostly, she's silent, but a few times she lets out involuntary hisses and twice she lets out a yelp. Finally, he's finished and pulls her shirt around her.

"Am I going to be okay?" Kate asks, still staring at the grass.

Jack's quiet. "I'll give you some pills but you'll have to take it really easy for at least a week." He shoots Sawyer a murderous look. "It's bruised in some places and you pulled at least two muscles."

Kate groans. "Do I sleep like this?"

"Whatever's most comfortable. If you usually sleep on your side, you should be fine. If you sleep on your back, use pillows for cushioning. Actually, you should do that if you sleep on your side, too. The next couple of days will be the hardest, I'm sorry to say." He turns to Sawyer. "Can you lend her pillows?"

"Sure, doc," Sawyer replies. He turns to Kate. "C'mon Freckles. He said you're going to be all right. I'll take you back to your tent and you can rest."

She groans again. "I can't walk like this. Jack?"

"Someone will have to support you physically until you're healed. Sawyer, can I trust you with that?"

Sawyer can practically hear the rest of the unsaid sentence: "because you're the reason she's hurt."

"I can do that," Sawyer replies.

Jack takes out a bottle of pills, removes one, and hands it to Kate. She swallows it dry. He hands the bottle to Sawyer.

"Make sure she takes two a day. Three if she needs it, but no more than that. The pills should be taken at least eight hours apart." Jack pauses. "Have Kate take them right after she gets up and right before she goes to bed. They might make her tired for an hour or so right after."

"I'm on it, doc." He pauses. "Kate? You ready to go back to your tent?"

"Yes."

Sawyer reaches down and picks Kate up gently. She whimpers and he begins to make shushing sounds. "How long's she gonna be like this?"

"At least a week."

"She'll be okay after that?" It's part question, part statement.

Jack doesn't bat an eye. "As long as she's careful and doesn't strain herself, Sawyer."

Sawyer turns away as he carries Kate to her tent. Once she's there, lying down, he goes to his own to collect extra pillows and another blanket. She needs both.

She's resting on her side, holding one of the pillows against her chest. Still not sleeping. Wasn't the pill supposed to do something about that?

Suddenly, an idea strikes Sawyer. "Freckles?"

"Mm hmm?"

"Want me to massage your back? It might help."

There's a long pause and Sawyer wonders if she's asleep.

Finally, Kate replies, "Well, I guess it can't hurt."

Sawyer laughs. "If it does, I'm in real hot water."

He begins to massage her back but Kate lets out another groan. "Too hard."

"Sorry, sorry." His hands slow and he lessens the pressure. "That any better?"

"Much." She yawns.

He rubs her shoulders for awhile, moving downward gradually. He feels Kate relaxing.

"Just holler if I'm hurting you," Sawyer jokes.

Kate gives a short laugh and stretches out until she's lying on her stomach. Her face lands on the pillow.

Sawyer continues to rub her back, slowly and carefully, until he's sure she's fast asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Kate sleeps for the rest of the day, only waking briefly to take a few swigs from her water bottle. When she's rested enough to get up, the momentary pain around her ribcage reminds her to take it easy. She groans, remembering the incident with Sawyer earlier in the day.

She should have never let him start tickling her. She had always been very ticklish, but her dad seemed to desensitize her to it.

Plus, there had been Wayne…

It was just like Sawyer to take it one step too far. Without realizing it until she's hurt. Kate's not exactly angry at Sawyer, but she feels frustrated with the whole situation. It's not taking it easy that she minds. A week of relaxing actually sounds nice. Or it would, had she been able to stand up and do something.

Unfortunately, they're on an island, possibly inhabited by other people. There's no TV to turn on, no electricity, no bathrooms, and only cold water. She can't even take a long bath or shower to lessen the pain.

How had early mankind survived?

Kate recalls that early man generally didn't live past forty. Or was it forty-five? By those standards, she was elderly.

She certainly _feels _old. Like the ninety year old grandma with her hair in a bun, hunched over some knitting as she rocks in her rocking chair.

Rocking chairs. Another wonderful invention of humanity. One that does not exist here.

Kate suddenly hears noise outside her tent. She struggles into a half sitting, half laying down position as she cranes her head. Maybe it's Sun. Or Jack. She wouldn't mind talking to Locke, hearing his crazy opinions about fate and the island's power.

It's Sawyer. Carrying food in one of the airline tin containers.

"Hey, freckles," he greets, setting the food down next to her. "How'd you sleep?"

Kate puts on a fake smile, hoping that Sawyer doesn't know her well enough to realize it's fake.

"Good."

It's not a lie. She had slept well. Unfortunately, she is now conscious and the pain is back.

More than just her back. Everything leading up to the island passes through Kate's mind. She wishes she could take back the last three years. Run away the night she set the house on fire. She was twenty-two then, old enough to take care of herself. Kate had money stashed away. Her father could have helped her, maybe gotten her a job or found her a cheap apartment.

Instead she had to act on impulse and ruin everything.

Kate tries not to think about this too often.

"I brought you some food," Sawyer says, taking a seat next to her and wrapping his arms around her so that she's leaning across his chest. She can't see him now, but she hears him smiling. "Fresh fruit and fish. Got the fish from Jin. The fish seem to have this mental link with him. It's crazy. No boar meat, though."

"I'm a vegetarian," Kate reminds Sawyer before she can help herself.

Sawyer sighs. "Am I gonna have to eat that whole fish by myself? 'Sides, you can't live on berries out here."

"I can eat fish," Kate relents.

It's not something she eats on a regular basis at home, but Sawyer's right. Without protein, she will get sick. Besides, the fish is already dead.

Sawyer's beginning to rub her shoulders again. She lets her head fall towards his elbow, losing herself in the feeling. He's so gentle, so careful, that it's almost worth being practically crippled.

Almost.

He stops after a few minutes. Kate turns to him, disappointed. Sawyer laughs.

"You'll get more after you eat. You don't want the fish to get cold."

Kate manages a wry grin. "All right." She reaches for the container, finds the plastic fork, and begins to eat.

The fish actually tastes pretty good. Maybe it's because the ocean's fairly clean, and it's fresh. Or perhaps it's because Kate hasn't had anything to eat since early that morning. Whatever the reason, she's a little disappointed when the last bite is gone. She starts on the fruit with less anticipation, but Sawyer's done a good job with that, too. The two apples are fresh and the strawberries aren't covered with mold.

Sawyer takes the container after Kate's finished, placing it near the edge of the tent. "I'll clean it out later," he says.

"I'm surprised we had any of those left."

Sawyer grins. "Everything has value here, freckles. The rest of the camp's eating on leaves or making bowls out of rotting tree trunks. They wish they hadn't thrown their fancy aluminum out now."

"How many did you take?"

"Fifteen. Had twenty, but a few got messed up."

Kate rolls her eyes. "Has anyone figured out that you're the thief?"

"Ain't thievery if the people leave it lying about, freckles. But to answer your question, no one's noticed they're gone. Partly because they were the ones who threw them out."

Kate rolls her eyes again, but nods. Sawyer has a point. He usually does, in some twisted way, but this makes sense.

"All right," Kate consents.

Sawyer grins. "Glad we got that out of the way. Now, onto more pleasant matters…"

They kiss, briefly. Sawyer evidently wants to go further, but Kate stops him, removing his hands from her waist and pulling away as he tries to put his tongue in her mouth, and he listens.

"Women…" he mutters.

"Not tonight, Sawyer," she says softly.

She doesn't realize how strained her voice sounds until Sawyer looks at her incredulously.

"Freckles?"

She positions herself so that she's sitting in his lap, wrapped in his arms, and pulls them around her tightly. He's so warm, and the nights have been getting cooler. Even on the beach, Kate still needs both blankets to keep out the cold.

Guessing her meaning, Sawyer reaches for one of them and wraps it around both of them. Kate gives a murmur of content as the softness touches her bare skin. She snuggles deeper into Sawyer's chest, ignoring the spasms in her back.

Smiling, Sawyer reaches for the second blanket, wrapping it securely around Kate. He grabs some pillows and props them against his chest. His arms massage Kate's neck and shoulders carefully from under the blankets.

Kate's eyes glaze over and then close. She wills herself to stay awake, to enjoy the feeling. The pain in her back diminishes as Sawyer holds her close, still not advancing anywhere she doesn't want to go. Her face flops against the pillows and he's reminded of a rabbit in its relaxed position.

Sawyer means to put her down after she's asleep, reposition the blankets so she's well covered, and make his way out of the tent to give her some peace and quiet. But Kate's grip is strong and she won't let go, so Sawyer ends up sleeping in a half sitting position, holding Kate almost as tightly as she holds him.


	8. Chapter 8

It's only been four days since Kate has hurt her back, but it no longer hurts. She hasn't taken much of the medicine Jack gave her. Even though he had cautioned her not to take the pills more than three times a day, she rarely needed it more than once. Even then, it's because of Sawyer that she swallows the pills with a swig of water. He seems so concerned about her, so unlike the Sawyer she first met on the island. This Sawyer's still sarcastic, gives people rude nicknames, hoards supplies, and acts as though every girl on the island wants to sleep with him.

Yet it's almost endearing. He's nicer about it. He spends hours with Kate each day. Sometimes, they talk about minor things that have nothing to do with the island. Other times, Sawyer's more serious. He doesn't talk about himself a lot, but he also doesn't ask Kate a lot of questions about herself. She appreciates this. She knows that Sawyer's interested in her past, but he's not going to bring it up just because the marshal said she was dangerous. He gives her space to reveal what she wants to reveal, _when_ she wants to tell it.

Other times, he sits with Kate. He might read to her, massage her back, or hold her as she tries to sit in a comfortable position. The number of blankets on Kate's "bed" has grown—Kate has three. She didn't have pillows before, but now she has four. Three if you don't include the last one, since Sawyer uses it when he's sleeping.

Sawyer's also been doing a lot of Kate's work around camp. Chopping wood for the fire still has to be done, and Kate had always been a huge help around camp. She can't work, so other people pick up the slack. Sawyer knows there have been rumors going around about Kate. Well, about his relationship with Kate. Some of the survivors think Sawyer hurt Kate on purpose. That he's some kind of physically abusive boyfriend. Others say that Sawyer got Kate pregnant back when Shannon's asthma medication disappeared, and she's hiding it.

People were never friendly toward Sawyer, but now there's visible pointing and some harsh comments within his earshot. Sawyer's prided himself on not caring what others thought, but he takes advantage of their rudeness to spend more time with Kate. Kate's always happy to see him, even if she tries to hide it.

Between working and Kate, Sawyer's days are pretty full.

By the fifth day, Kate's sure that her back is normal, and tells Sawyer this.

"I can't just lie here and not do anything," she complains. "I'm fine. I'm really all right now."

Sawyer tries to silence Kate with a kiss, but she'll have none of it. Sure, she gives him a quick peck, but she won't be distracted.

She's just too damn stubborn.

"The doc said to take a week," he reminds her, smiling. "You ain't sick of me already, Freckles?"

Kate laughs, flopping on her side. "You're one of the best parts."

Sawyer leans closer. "Does that mean…"

Kate stops smiling. "No." Then, more gently, she adds, "I can't get pregnant here."

"Hell, freckles, there's plenty to do between kissing and having sex."

She rolls her eyes. "You're saying that so I'll be more likely to have sex when we're doing the in between part."

Is he that obvious? Besides, prior to the plane crash, he hardly had to ask women to have sex with him. They were always more than willing. Eager, really. Even the quiet ones.

Not that Kate was quiet, per se.

Kate sits up. "I'm just bored," she practically whines. "All I've been doing these past few days is resting."

Sawyer frowns. "I've been enjoying our time together, Freckles. Didn't know you wanted to get rid of me so soon. Missing the doc, maybe?"

Kate exhales loudly. Exasperated. "How many times," she says through clenched teeth, "do I have to tell you that I do not like Jack in that way?"

Sawyer smirks. Kate's so cute when she's riled up.

"Tell me again."

"Someone's going to get a big head," Kate laughs, shaking her head.

"Tell me again," Sawyer presses, wrapping his arms around Kate's neck, resting them below her chest.

Kate smiles, tilting her head to the side so it rests on his shoulder. It's odd, maybe, but she feels incredibly safe when Sawyer holds her like that. She can't remember if her parents did this as a child. It feels so natural. Someone must have.

"I don't like Jack." She looks up at Sawyer, who's watching her expectantly. "I want you."

One of his hands leaves her back to stroke her hair. Kate notices that he's been more open about that lately. In the beginning, he'd pretend to be getting at a loose hair, or checking her head for bugs. Now, there's less of a pretense. Kate knows Sawyer would never show this kind of affection for her in front of others—Jack being the possible exception—but he's fairly open in private.

Unlike being held, Kate wasn't sure at first if she liked Sawyer playing with her hair. It seemed like some kind of trick, a ruse to get her to relax and go farther than she would go normally. It was never something Kevin did, or Tom, or any other guy she'd dated. Now, two weeks into their relationship, Kate can't believe she ever didn't enjoy it. Sawyer's not the type to use pet names like baby or hon, but this is sort of its replacement.

"I still want to get up and walk around," Kate complains half heartedly. "I'm tired of being stuck here all the time."

Sawyer laughs. "Why don't we wait until tomorrow, go see the doc, and hear what he has to say?"

"I don't _want_ to wait," Kate grumbles, but her actions give her away. Her head's back on Sawyer's shoulder, and she stifles a yawn.

Sawyer muffles a snicker by faking a coughing fit. "Want a massage?"

Kate nods imperceptivity and Sawyer turned her so that she's lying on her back.

The next day, Jack runs some tests before officially clearing Kate.

"You're lucky it wasn't worse," he says, more to Sawyer than to Kate. "You might want to be more careful next time."

Sawyer refuses to dignify the doc's asinine comment with a response.

That evening, Claire returns to camp with severe amnesia. She doesn't remember anyone. She doesn't even know they were in a plane crash.

Sawyer wonders if her baby is still alive. The others must be pretty powerful if they were able to erase that much of her memory.

He vows not to pressure Kate into having sex. They'll wait until they're off the island. Far away from this godforsaken place.

With condoms. And after getting Kate to go on the pill.

Because Sawyer can't become a father again.

Still, he holds onto Kate so tightly that night he's surprised that there aren't bruises on her arms the next day.


	9. Chapter 9

Claire's reappearance is almost as unsettling as her disappearance. Or at least the fact that she doesn't remember anything. Kate can tell that Charlie's the most effected by this, but everyone's in shock. Some people respond to it by trying to avoid Claire. Even avoid looking at her in case they happen to run into her. Kate falls somewhere in the middle of the two extremes.

She had missed Claire's arrival because Sawyer had still been keeping her inside. Claire must have arrived during the night on the afternoon that Jack had cleared Kate for walking. Or maybe it was the day before. Either way, Kate wasn't there and she now feels very much out of the loop.

The problem with being crippled and stuck in one place, she realizes, is how much news gets passed by you. She had heard things when she was active in the community of survivors, because she was around people who talked. This was part of the reason Kate always wanted to go on dangerous trips. It's always better to be in the know. Because on this island, what you don't know _can_ kill you.

Except, no one had bothered to tell her the latest news over the last week. Sawyer was an outcast, by his own choice, and had spent a lot of the time with her. Which Kate had enjoyed in its own way—it kept her from brooding too much—but now she realizes that Sawyer not being there meant he wouldn't know what was going on.

The one thing he had told her was that Michael was starting to build a raft so he could take his son off the island.

"He was kind of vague about whether anyone else could go besides the two of them," Sawyer told Kate.

Part of Kate wants to be on that raft when it leaves the island. If they're successful in sailing to any place with a human civilization, she wants to create a new identity before anyone knows she's Kate Austin, the fugitive. Another part of Kate thinks that Michael might not be able to build anything with what remains of their supplies. That setting sail is essentially suicide.

Sawyer seems to feel the same way. He's looking for more information, though, and not telling Kate everything.

Or maybe she's being paranoid.

Either way, Claire's appearance is a shock because not only is she still pregnant, the possibility of other people existing has gone from distant to nearly fact. The fact that they kidnapped Claire means they're a danger to everyone else.

Which means that everyone else on the island has to find a way to leave the island.

Or, at least, not give the other people cause to harm them.

But what had Claire done? She had been harmless. Maybe they wanted her baby.

They hadn't gotten it, so Claire might be in more danger now.

The whole amnesia thing is becoming annoying.

Kate's sitting quietly around Hurley, Locke, and Jack. They're eating fruit and discussing the recent turn of events and what this means. Jack insists that Claire's still healthy but the baby's going to be born any day now. In other words, she can't be left alone and cannot be made to know what's going on.

"We need to keep her safe until she delivers," Jack's insisting through bites of mango.

"And what if they're just waiting until she delivers before striking back?" Locke argues. "They may want to lure us into feeling a false sense of confidence. This could all be part of the plan."

The conversation continues like this for awhile, with no one coming to any definite conclusions and no course of action being decided. Kate stands up once she's finished her fruit, walking over to one of the water holes to clean the plate.

Jack realizes she's there just as she's about to leave.

"You doing okay?" he asks.

Kate nods. "Fine."

"Do you have any thoughts on this?"

Plenty. But Jack and Locke have already voiced them, and she's beginning to feel like a third wheel in the group. She knows this is mostly because of Sawyer. Jack and Locke don't see him as a threat, exactly, more like an inconvenience. Spending time with him makes her seem less loyal to the rest of the group. Like she's become a parasite and is plotting to steal their clothes and other belongings once their backs are turned.

Not that they say this to her face.

But the feeling is still there.

"Not at the moment."

"Yeah well…" Jack trails off. "Let me know if you do, okay?" There's a pause. "Good thing we have those guns."

Kate smiles slightly. A _very_ good thing.

Sawyer helps Kate cut wood and haul it back to camp. It's one of the first productive things he's done since arriving, and people give him odd looks. There's talk, of course. Sawyer can imagine what they're saying.

"Good for Kate. Looks like she tamed him."

"It's about time Sawyer started pulling his weight around here."

"Guess he's not such a loner after all."

Whatever. He's not doing it for them. Hell, he's not even doing it for Kate. It's just that Kate's busy helping out around camp, and if he wants to spend time with her, he's going to have to be around her when she works.

Of course, if Sawyer's watching her while she's working, he feels like he ought to help out. Get the job done faster. Show Kate he can cut logs twice as fast as she can. Pick twice as much fruit.

She responds to the competition with her own. Freckles is constantly pushing herself. Sawyer's concerned that she's going to hurt her back again, but she doesn't. She does have a nice, woodsy smell at the end of the day, and sleeps more soundly than before. She doesn't get nightmares, or at least, not ones that wake Sawyer up from his sleep.

At least Kate doesn't snore as much now.

This isn't to say all they do is work and sleep. Kate's been trying to talk to Claire, help her remember whatever happened to her in the jungle. Make sure she's fairly comfortable before she delivers. Jack examines her fairly regularly, but there's not much wrong with her physically.

Just mentally.

Maybe the island's responsible for insanity. Sayid had told them about this crazy French chick who'd been on the island for at least sixteen years.

Anyone stuck in one place for that long would go crazy, in Sawyer's opinion. But if Claire was going insane, it seemed a little premature. After all, they've only been on the island for a month. Surely the French chick lasted longer than that before she started hearing voices?

There are other problems, too. Locke had told everyone that winter was approaching. Winter on a tropical island isn't the same as winter as Sawyer knows it. Or Kate. There's little to no chance of snow. The temperatures will drop, but not lower than forty degrees. Really, winter just means more rain.

Lots and lots of rain.

So people aren't as likely to go sunbathing, and anyone with sense will want to stay in their shelter or near the caves. Keeping the fires going will be more difficult because the rain's going to make their logs much harder to light. Kate says that John and Locke are talking about finding a place to keep their log stash so this doesn't happen. But it's not like they have that many. Everyone seems to use whatever they have just to stay alive on the island.

There's also been talk about building a raft. Michael's the one who started the talk, saying the island's a dangerous place and he has to get his son out of there and if they don't act now they'll just adapt to the island and become islanders.

Or something like that.

So far, it hasn't progressed much beyond talk. Michael's done a little work, but whatever he's made so far resembles a pile of logs and bamboo more than a raft. The logs aren't even pulled together. Still, Sawyer figures it's worth investigating. Depending on how many people Michael can fit, maybe he and Kate can hitch a ride. Some of the stuff in Sawyer's stash has to help put a boat together.

He hasn't talked to Kate about it. She enjoys being on the island. Whatever she did back in Australia, she's still wanted by the authorities. Sawyer can't imagine it being anything too big—maybe theft or selling fake IDs—but it's enough to bother her. Just hearing about the raft gets her all quiet. Sawyer can not figure this woman out.

It's dark now, and he can see Kate sitting on the beach, staring at the ocean. The tide's coming in pretty strong. They might have to move Kate's tent. His is a little further back.

Sawyer takes a seat next to her, careful to sit on one of the rocks and not in the wet sand. Kate doesn't turn around, but Sawyer sees her eyes flicker towards him.

"Hey, Freckles."

Kate smiles. "Hi Sawyer."

"Mind if I sit here?"

Kate shakes her head and turns her gaze back to the beach. She's not exactly chatty in the best of circumstances, but this is quiet even for her.

She's wearing one of her sleeveless shirts. A dark brown one. The top part of her hair is pulled back from her face in some kind of messy knot, but the bottom's loose. Sawyer likes it this way, but can't find the words to tell her.

His hand brushes her shoulder and she feels ice cold.

"Hell, Freckles, ain't you freezing?"

Kate turns to him, surprise in her face. "I guess I hadn't noticed," she says with a half laugh.

Sawyer rolls his eyes. "C'mon, let's get you back inside your tent. I'll get you warmed up." Kate snorts and Sawyer quickly adds, "I meant with blankets!"

Kate doesn't move. "I don't feel like going in yet."

Sawyer sighs. "Fine. Just don't blame me when you have a one hundred and ten degree fever."

It's Kate's turn to roll her eyes. "Wouldn't I be dead if I was that hot?"

"I don't know, ask the doc. I didn't go to med school." Sawyer starts to get up. "I'll be in the tent when you're ready to come in." Kate doesn't protest out loud, and Sawyer finds he wishes she would. He sits back down. "Okay, five minutes."

"You got a watch?" Kate retorts.

He pulls her into his arms, more roughly than he had intended.

"Hey!" Kate complains, trying to get up.

Sawyer grabs her shoulders, more gentle this time. "Freckles, come one."

A couple of weeks ago, Kate would have slapped him, but she recognizes that Sawyer's intentions were good. Well, good enough. She settles into his lap, leaning her head against his shirt. He smells good.

Not that she'd tell him that.

"Ya comfortable?" he asks, rubbing her bare arms with his hands.

Kate turns to him, smiling in reply. He grins back, and squeezes her closer. They stay like that for a few minutes. Kate's head droops and falls on the inside of his right elbow. Her hair tickles his arm and Sawyer doesn't pull it back.

"So, Freckles, what are we lookin' at?"

Kate shifts in his lap. "The stars."

Sawyer squints. There sure are a lot of them. He once read that electricity blocks them out. He can probably see thousands across the sky. Maybe planets, too. It makes him feel small. They're stuck on this deserted island, away from any kind of civilization. But the stars don't seem to care. They're too far away. The sky's so huge.

They stay outside for more than ten minutes. Sawyer pokes Kate playfully. "Time to get inside."

"Five more minutes," she mumbles.

Right after she says that, she slumps into Sawyer's lap and falls asleep. Great. Now he has to carry her back to camp.

At least it's only a few feet.

He picks her up. Kate's lighter than Sawyer would have expected. Her eyes open at the sudden movement.

"What are you doing?" she mutters, head drooping over Sawyer's shoulder.

"What does it look like, Freckles?" Sawyer replies, now shifting his weight. Kate doesn't look it, but she's surprisingly heavy.

Or maybe it's because Sawyer's tired.

They reach the tent and Kate's already asleep. Sawyer pulls aside the blankets and lays her down so she's lying on top of her original one. Sawyer momentarily debates taking off some of her clothes but decides against it.

She'd kill him.

Sawyer looks at her resting body again, reconsiders and takes off her shoes and her socks. That's harmless enough. She can't get angry at him for _that._

Kate barely stirs. He puts the socks and shoes along the side of the tent, where they won't stink up the place too badly.

He pauses at the jeans. Kate's always slept in shorts, or just a shirt and undies, until now. The jeans can't be comfortable to sleep in. Still, Kate _is_ asleep right now and Sawyer doesn't want to risk waking Kate by taking them off while she sleeps. Even if she'd probably understand, deep down.

Way deep.

But he's slept in jeans before and he never slept much as a result. Kate might be passed out now, but Sawyer's afraid she'll pay the price later.

Which means he has to wake her up.

He grabs a pair of shorts and shakes her shoulder. Gentle but persistent.

Kate rolls over on her side and groans.

"Freckles, wake up," Sawyer coaxes, shaking her again.

She turns over. Her eyes open slowly. "What do you want?" she grumbles.

"You're still dressed. Here." He hands her the shorts.

Kate rubs her eyes, now fully awake. She's in a bad mood, but a small part of her recognizes that it's nice that Sawyer cares enough to take her.

He could have just undressed her. Until two weeks ago, Kate wouldn't have put it past him.

Now, she knows better.

"Turn around," she grumbles.

Sawyer rolls his eyes but obeys. A minute later, he hears the jeans being tossed off to one side. Seconds later, she speaks.

"You can look now."

Sawyer rolls over in time to see Kate pulling her hair out of the hair band and brushing it out with her fingers. He wraps his arms around her waist and squeezes, pulling her into a hug.

Kate laughs. "Someone's frisky."

"Yeah, well. First night you ain't hurt," Sawyer replies.

Kate hugs him back before laying her head on his shirt. The hair tickles his neck. She's not tired anymore, but cuddling seems like a good idea.

Funny, she wouldn't have pictured Sawyer as the cuddling type.

Nor, really, was she. But since sex is out of the question, other things look a lot better.

"Just don't get any ideas," she warns, planting a light kiss on his lips.

"Whatever you say, Freckles." He pulls the nearest blanket up close. His fingers brush against her neck, sending Kate into peals of silent laughter. Once the blankets are tucked under their bodies, he takes hold of Kate again and holds her against his chest as though she's a life size doll. Her hair falls so that it covers at least half of Sawyer's face, but he doesn't move.

"G'night," he says in a flirty voice.

"Night, Sawyer."

Now that she's comfortable and warm, it's hard for Kate to stay awake. As usual, she wants to delay sleep in order to enjoy the feeling, but she fails. She lets out a long yawn and is asleep before she knows it. Her last thought before the familiar dreams take over is that she'll be with Sawyer tomorrow, and can enjoy his presence then.

Sawyer stays awake much longer, thinking things through as he runs his hands through Kate's hair. Until the screaming starts.


	10. Chapter 10

Sawyer woke up immediately, sitting bolt upright. A glance to his left and he saw the screaming was coming from Kate. Without thinking, Sawyer did the first thing that came to mind. He fiercely covered her mouth with his hand. The screaming grew muffled, and then he felt a sharp pain around his hand. Kate was biting him!

"Damn it, freckles!" he snapped, pulling the hand away. "What the hell was that for?"

It was too dark to examine his hand, but Sawyer was pretty sure Kate had drawn blood. It sure felt like it.

In the few seconds Sawyer was examining his hand, Kate rushed towards the tent's opening and was out of sight.

Sawyer swore again. He pulled the rest of the blankets off his legs, left the tent, and began to look for his girlfriend.

He heard some muffled sobs and walked toward the noise. Kate was standing at the cusp of the ocean. Sawyer could feel the wet sand between his toes and swore yet again—this time inwardly.

He reached to put an arm around Kate. She let him, but the cries didn't stop. Sawyer was not exactly known for his patience on a regular day, and here it must be close to 1AM, he was cold, in pain, and feeling very frustrated by Kate's erratic behavior.

"Come on," he practically growled. "Back to camp."

Kate allowed Sawyer to drag her back to the tent, feeling a little like a small child having been caught at performing some misdeed. At the same time, she wouldn't have gone back on her own. The dream had been awful, but what was worse was how vivid it seemed. Like Wayne was right there, aware of everything that had been going on during the last few weeks. And then Sawyer's reaction…

Once they were in the tent, Sawyer rummaged through his stash until he found a towel. He began rubbing it against his feet. Once he was satisfied, he turned to Kate.

"Here. You want to or should I?"

"You," Kate practically spat out.

She expected it to hurt, the way it did when she woke up to find Sawyer's hand clamped over her mouth, gagging her.

It didn't. Sawyer's anger seemed to be spent. It was almost pleasant when he rubbed the sand from her feet and the bottom of her legs. Nothing like when Sawyer would rub her back, but nice in its own way.

Kate struggled to keep herself under control. It was a dream, that was _all._ Sawyer had grabbed her because he didn't want Kate to wake up the other survivors. He'd probably been half asleep too.

Once Sawyer was finished, Kate crawled back under the covers, aware that she was shivering. Sawyer sighed and joined her until the three blankets.

He couldn't sleep until he knew what had happened.

"Kate."

"What." She was still bitter.

"Look, I'm sorry, but you were screaming."

Kate turned away from him. "Ever occur to you to ask why?"

Sawyer took a deep breath, then exhaled loudly. "I was going to when you tried to rip my hand off."

Kate sniggered to herself. She hadn't planned that, but the best revenge was rarely decided in advance. To be completely honest, Kate had reacted more than anything else. There was something in her way—get it out of the way. By any means necessary. But do the easiest thing first. Which, in this case, meant biting Sawyer's hand.

Then the mental image of the dream flashed in her mind and a darkness took over her.

"You were the one trying to gag me!"

Okay, not completely true, but close enough.

"You were screaming, freckles." Sawyer's voice was low, almost gentle. "Didn't want people to come running around thinking I was doing it."

Kate knew that "people" referred to Jack. Even though these was no question between the two, Sawyer and Jack clearly felt that Kate's current decision was subject to change given the opportunity. Stupid. Despite never having brothers or sisters, Kate was confident that dating Jack would be like dating one of them. Not to mention sleeping with him…

The idea made her want to hurl.

"I know." Her voice was soft. "It was…" Kate paused. "It was a dream I had."

Kate felt Sawyer's arms sneak around her waist as he spoke. "Must've been some dream."

Kate nuzzled against his chest. "Don't want to talk about it now."

Sawyer laughed. "Too early for that?"

Something like that.

Kate gave a noncommittal grunt, and one of Sawyer's arms loosened his grip on her and pulled the blankets around her carefully.

"Later?" Sawyer meant to say it as a statement, but it wasn't.

Kate made a sound in reply.

"What's that?" Sawyer asked, watching her hair.

No response. Freckles had fallen asleep. Sawyer rolled his eyes and gave a short laugh. Of course Kate would fall asleep right away. With his luck, he'd be up all night.

Was the dream about something that happened before the plane crash? It could have been the reason Kate wanted the plane, or the reason she was wanted in the first place.

Seemed unlikely, though. Probably, Sawyer reasoned, she had found herself face to face with a polar bear. Or she was in the woods and had heard those strange whispers. He's heard about those before, though he hadn't witnessed it firsthand.

He'd have to be more careful. Less impulsive. He knew he was becoming gentle around Kate, but he wasn't that kind of person. If she thought this was the "real him", she was mistaken. Maybe he could try to become more like that—it was definitely easier to be kind when he was around someone who _got_ him—but he was going to mess up. Kate couldn't expect him to be all Mr. Sensitivity.

Sawyer's thoughts were interrupted by Kate's snores. He groaned. Why was it that the good looking ones always had to snore the loudest? At home, he'd use earplugs, but of course he hadn't thought to bring those and no one else had brought them either.

At least, none that Sawyer had been able to find through his quick rummage through everyone's luggage when they were too busy freaking out and finding loved ones to notice.

Like Claire. She still thought no one brought a hair brush. If there was one thing he had plenty of, it was that. Sawyer had figured he'd trade it for something good, but it was probably too late for that.

He shut his eyes, willing sleep to come, as Kate's snores grew louder. At least they weren't screams.


	11. Chapter 11

Sawyer spent a good part of the night not sleeping. It wasn't just Kate's snores, though they definitely weren't helping. Whenever he started to relax, the image of Kate screaming flashed across his mind and jolted him awake. He'd have to talk to her about it soon.

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea that they were sleeping together. If Sawyer went back to his tent, he wouldn't need to worry about waking up in the middle of the night. He'd also be sending a clear message to Kate that if she didn't want to go farther than just kissing, he wasn't ready to move in with her and share his stash. She could go back to sleeping with one blanket again. See how she liked that after a few days.

She'd be running to Sawyer before long, dying to make out with him. Probably more.

He wouldn't have had scruples about this about any other woman he'd been with. But they'd all been a lot more willing than Kate. Hell, if anything, _he_ had been the one who would play hard to get.

Just thinking about leaving Kate made Sawyer feel guilty. She wasn't like the others. Hadn't she said that almost as soon as he spoke to her? Besides, he didn't want to leave her when she needed him. The nightmare meant that her guard was down around Sawyer. This meant that she needed him to be there when she was ready to tell him all of her dirty secrets. Not that she could have that many.

Sawyer reconsidered the situation for the tenth time, shifting from laying on his right side to his left. As far as he could remember, Kate got nightmares towards the middle of the night. Must be at least two hours after she fell asleep. Well, if Sawyer made himself stay awake for at least that long, he could try to calm her down before the nightmares got that bad. He vaguely remembered his grandmother holding him and smoothing back his hair for the first few weeks after his parents died. She hardly left his side that time. After awhile, the nightmares became less vivid and more infrequent.

It couldn't hurt, really. He'd have to sleep later in the mornings, but Kate had been forcing him to get up way too early anyhow. She'd wake up at the crack of dawn to go running or pick fruit or cut wood. He'd watch her get up, try to get her to stay in bed without success, and finally turn over so his head was in the pillow and fall asleep. One nice thing about Kate being injured was that Sawyer could sleep in without being disturbed.

Well, not as much. Freckles would still shatter his sleep as she stepped on his back—always claiming it was an accident but Sawyer knew better: no one was that clumsy—as she made her way into the woods to pee.

Once the decision was made, Sawyer's body relaxed and he fell into a dreamless sleep.

Kate woke up uneasily, still buried under the covers. She opened her eyes to find Sawyer's arm draped around her head, but the rest of him was not even close to touching her. She missed the warmth and began to position herself against him before remembering the fight from the previous night.

Why'd she have to have that nightmare again? More important, why had it been so much worse this time?

Wayne had appeared in her sleep at least once a week ever since the fire, but Kate forced herself to become immune to him. She told herself that he deserved what he got. Her mom was too codependent to realize what he'd been doing to her, and the police were corrupt. Most of them were. Even Kevin, who she once loved, told her that a lot of his crew liked to pull people over for going a few miles above the limit so that one of the cops lower on the ladder had to fill out all of the paperwork. If there was a commission, it went straight into Kevin's friends' paychecks. Hell, it didn't even matter if the person was going one mile over the limit or twenty.

So it didn't matter why Kate had killed Wayne, just that she'd done it. If they could prove it. They probably could, thanks to her mom.

Kate knew that she was a lot freer on the island than she would be if her true identity was discovered. Maybe Sawyer could help her out with that.

It wasn't that she was using Sawyer. Truthfully, she hadn't thought about him helping her until a few days ago. He'd been a con man, so he could probably get her a new identity. She'd rather be on the island than in jail, but she'd also rather be free than stuck on the island.

Especially given the way everyone was now treating her since she was with Sawyer. Had Jack put them up to it?

She glanced over at Sawyer, who was still sleeping with one arm stretched out over her head. He looked peaceful.

Unlike last night.

Remembering what had occurred made Kate cringe. Had she really _bitten_ him?

Yes, she recalled that scene all too clearly.

Kate groaned, threw back the covers, and pulled on a pair of jeans and her sneakers. Maybe she could get some running done before he woke up. Running always made her brain work faster, and knowing Sawyer, he'd want to know what happened last night sooner rather than later.

He was up when she returned. Sitting outside her tent, reading _Watership Down_ without a care in the world. Next to him sat a plate of half eaten food. Kate contemplated leaving before Sawyer could see her when he dropped his book on the ground.

"Son of a…oh, hey, Freckles," he greeted, squinting up at her.

"Hey yourself," she replied, sitting down next to him. "What's wrong with your eyes?"

Sawyer picked up the book before answering. "Headache."

"You should see Jack about that."

"I don't get them that often, sweetheart." He smiled his usual arrogant grin, but Kate wasn't fooled.

"Right."

"You hungry?" He nodded towards the food.

"No." She pretended to be fascinated by the ocean.

"You okay?"

His arm was around her shoulders again. Kate fought the impulse to lay her head on it. Instead, she just shrugged, pretending not to notice that he was making an effort at caring.

About ten minutes passed before either one of them spoke.

"We don't have to talk about last night right now," he said in a low voice.

How did he know her so well already?

"I'm not ready yet," Kate admitted.

"When you are…"

Kate blinked a few times. "It was just a bad dream, Sawyer."

She could practically hear him thinking, _Looked like a lot worse than that._

At least he didn't say it.

"I'm not ready," Kate repeated.

"All right, Freckles." He smoothed her hair. "Mind if I read some more of my book?" He paused, then added, "I can read it out loud if you like."

Kate laughed. "Really?"

She tried not to sound too eager.

"Well, a few pages, at least. Don't want to lose my voice."

Kate nestled against his chest. "Go ahead."

Sawyer finished the first sentence as the noise of Michael and some of the other survivors began chopping wood and hammering planks together. Sawyer put down his book, swore loudly, and shut his eyes for a few minutes.

Kate sat up, placing an arm around his shoulder tentatively. "Sawyer?"

He began to rub his forehead vigorously and hollered down at the crowd. "You mind keeping it down?"

A few of the survivors turned to glare at Sawyer, but the rest continued working on the shelter. Kate rolled her eyes.

"Sure you don't want to see Jack?"

Sawyer shut his eyes, not responding for a few minutes. When he spoke, it was just to say, "Naw."

A few minutes after that, Sawyer threw the book to the ground. "I'm gonna rest awhile, freckles."

Kate stood up. "I'm going for a walk."

Sawyer nodded as he lay down on top of Kate's original blanket. She noticed that he didn't touch the others.

"Aren't you going to use those?" Kate asked, pausing at the door.

Sawyer opened his eyes. "Huh? Oh. No. I don't use blankets."

Kate smiled slightly. "I'll be back in an hour or so."

Sawyer grunted and rolled over on his stomach, face buried in the pillow.

As soon as Kate was out of sight, she started to run. It started as a jog, then grew faster and faster until her lungs hurt. She leaned against a tall tree with one hand, clutching her stomach with the other hand. She felt ready to vomit. Kate was out of practice. She'd have to do this every day, or stop her once familiar intense workout altogether. She knew she'd choose the former. Kate had to be able to run.

Once the pain subsided in her chest subsided, Kate took off in another sprint. She ran until it hurt, but not until she felt ready to puke. She stopped again, panting as her heart rate slowed down, and continued the process. Ten minutes later, Kate was thoroughly soaked and exhausted. At least she'd been paying attention and knew where she was. Roughly a half hour's walk from camp. Twenty minutes if she walked quickly.

She wasn't ready to go back.

There were some berry bushes a few yards from her, and Kate was feeling rather hungry, so she hobbled over to the bushes and began to pick the raspberries. She hadn't seen any near the beach before today. They were delicious. She ate slowly, still consuming several handfuls by the time she felt full. There were some left over, but Kate had nothing to put them in, so they'd have to stay on the bushes. Maybe she and Sun could go back within the next day or so to get them. Could you grow raspberry bushes from raspberry seeds? Kate was fairly certain they could.

Reluctantly, Kate returned to camp just as the sun was starting to set. After eating a few fish and taking a long, cold shower—not that there was any other kind on the island—she crept back to the tent site. She took a tentative step inside her tent and saw that Sawyer was still sleeping.

She hid a snort. She'd been gone for hours. Had Sawyer been asleep this whole time?

Then, worry struck her. The headaches might not be _just_ headaches. There could actually be something wrong with him.

"Sawyer?"

Kate spoke in a low voice, hoping he'd hear her if he wasn't sleeping too soundly.

Sawyer rolled over on the blanket, facing her.

"'Bout time you showed up, Freckles. I was starting to think a polar bear ate you."

A small smile broke across Kate's face. "Not likely."

"Yeah, you'd be too stringy for him." Sawyer grinned. Then looked her up and down. "Ain't you cold?"

Kate shook her head, but sat next to Sawyer on the blanket. One arm found its way around her shoulder while the other draped a blanket over her back. Exhaustion catching up with her, Kate smiled tiredly.

"About earlier…" Kate turned away. "Will you at least tell me what was scaring you in the dream?"

Kate was all set to refuse, but Sawyer peered at her intently, concerned. Before she could think of anything to say, Sawyer continued speaking.

"Not talkin' bout it will just make it worse."

_This_ was definitely true. But at the moment, Kate thought it would hurt more to talk about Wayne than to keep quiet. It wasn't as though he was on her mind during most of the day, so if he just stayed out of her nightmares, she could keep him away from her at night.

"Not now."

Sawyer sighed. "Well, I'm here. Don't know what it's about, but I've had experience with dysfunctional crap."

Kate studied the yellow blanket as though there was a message hidden inside the fabric.

"I'm not ready now."

"All right, but if you get another nightmare like that, will you reconsider?"

Kate nodded reluctantly. Sawyer picked up his book, and she leaned away from him, staring at the fire outside.

"Let's say we continue our reading session?" Sawyer suggested, eying her. "We didn't get too far before."

"It's getting dark…"

"Then we'd better hurry." He pulled at the blanket around her shoulder, gently tickling Kate below the neck in the process. Kate swatted his head in response.

Two days later, the dream returned. It seemed like as soon as she fell asleep, Wayne's face was there. Laughing at her. She tossed in her sleep and found herself being shaken. She thought it was Wayne trying to strangle her, but as the sleep left her, she realized it was Sawyer.

"Shh, it's okay," he was saying.

His arms were still tight around Kate's shoulders and she couldn't breathe. At least she knew where she was this time. At least Sawyer hadn't resorted to covering her mouth, which would have gagged her.

Kate tried to take a few deep breaths as Sawyer let go. She must have tossed the blankets aside in her sleep. Again. She looked at Sawyer, who she knew was wearing a soft, tan colored t-shirt and jeans. She'd put on a jean jacket before heading to bed, but now she was sweating. She pulled off the jacket as though it were choking her.

Sawyer attempted to hug her, but it was awkward. He clearly wasn't sure what he was supposed to be doing, and Kate wasn't sure what she wanted him to do. A large part of her wanted to run, but the instinct was not overbearing and she was too tired to outrun Sawyer if he decided to chase after her.

A yawn escaped her otherwise unmoving body. It must have been close to midnight, and there was no moon, so she couldn't see Sawyer. She could feel him, hear him, even smell him, but knowing that he couldn't see her face helped. It was like she was wearing a mask.

Kate realized that she was shivering and Sawyer was wrapping one of the discarded blankets around her shoulders. Her teeth were chattering, and he was pulling her down…

"NO!" she shouted, scrambling to get up, prepared to run away.

"I wasn't going to make you do _that_!" Sawyer sounded genuinely offended. "I was just trying to help you get comfortable, since one minute you're shaking and the next you're about ready to fall asleep sitting up."

Kate turned away, shutting her eyes against the tears. She wouldn't make a sound, wouldn't give Sawyer the satisfaction. She lay huddled under the one blanket for several moments, doing her best to hide her sobs.

"Shhh," Sawyer said again, covering himself with a blanket and reaching out to her with one arm. "Freckles, I'm sorry."

His presence was so comforting. Kate was torn between wanting to lean against Sawyer and the desire to escape human contact. She ended up moving her head against his chest while keeping the rest of her away from his reach. Sawyer sighed, swore, and began to play with her hair.

Within minutes, Kate was asleep.

This time, there were no nightmares.

The following morning, Kate decided to tell Sawyer what had happened.


	12. Chapter 12

Despite her resolve to tell Sawyer everything the night before, Kate woke up feeling uneasy about her rash promise. She hadn't had any nightmares the night before, and she was tempted to believe they were gone for good.

Or at least for awhile.

Kate never let herself get used to being in one place for long. As a kid, she lived on the expectation that getting her driver's license and a used car would mean the end of her living at home. She could go somewhere else, preferably with Tom, and be free from her mother's passivity and Wayne's abuse. Tom had known, to an extent, what it was like living with those two. He hadn't known everything—no one had—but he knew enough to understand Kate's need to escape.

Or as he called her then, Katie.

She smiled to herself. He had been the only one to keep up the childhood nickname past the age of twelve. To her mother, she had always been Katherine. To Wayne, she had been "you" or "girl". To her father, she had been Katie until she decided to call herself Kate. But Tom insisted on using her childhood nickname long past anyone else.

She hadn't minded, much.

She had wanted to get a part time job after school as soon as she could work. As a kid, Kate maintained a fairly successful paper route. This went on until she was twelve. Then, she had helped her father with paperwork on the weekends for another two years. When Kate turned fourteen, her mother reluctantly let her work as a waitress at the nearby diner two nights a week after school, and then on Saturday afternoon. The condition to this had been that Kate kept her grades up, but this had never been an issue. School came easily to Kate, and she was smarter than most of the kids in her class.

Also smart enough to act normal so they couldn't call her names like dork or geek. Kate had never been popular but she kept a few girls as acquaintances during middle school and high school.

Tom had always been her best friend.

Anyway, escaping from her life hadn't been as easy as going to college or making enough money to start over somewhere. Kate usually saved whatever she earned, with the exception of buying a motorcycle instead of the used car, and she worked enough hours for the money to add up. She kept most of the money in a bank account but had the sense to withdraw it a few weeks before blowing up her house.

There had been over five thousand dollars in her account, more than enough to keep Kate going if she had to go into hiding.

Which she had.

Plus, Kate had found ways to earn money under the table and managed not to spend any of it unless she absolutely had to. She would steal if she had to, but mostly Kate got used to feeling somewhat hungry and not sleeping in a house. It was also part of the reason Kate let herself date guys who resembled Wayne more than she would have liked to admit. She would never consider herself a prostitute, but having sex with a nice guy who thought she was hot was a good way to be assured of having a bed and food for a few months.

Traveling to Australia had been expensive but necessary. Kate assumed the marshal would never look for her outside of North America.

Turned out she was wrong.

She had been wrong about a lot.

On the island, Kate couldn't run. Then again, on the island Kate also didn't have to worry about survival. It was ironic that everyone was so afraid of starvation and dehydration when there was plenty of fruit, fish, water, and even boar meat for those who thought it was okay to kill another practically sentient being. All they had to do was stay away from the creepy "others", not kill each other, and not get killed.

Piece of cake.

Sure, they didn't have washing machines or snacks or hot water, but they also didn't have to work 9-5 jobs in order to pay for these conveniences. Jack had seemed genuinely surprised that Kate and Sun started planting a garden, as though the food was just going to grow magically.

Actually, Kate realized with a grin, it might. This island was not normal.

Then she found the briefcase and with that, an unexpected relationship with one of the most attractive but most unappealing men on the island. It sounded like something Kate would read in a trashy romance novel by Nora Roberts—if she ever read trashy romance novels by Nora Roberts.

She didn't.

As much as Kate tried not to like Sawyer, she couldn't help it. He was hot, she was a single female, and his biting remarks were usually pretty funny.

Besides, he called her Freckles. Much better than some of the other names people had called her.

Bitch, slut, lunatic, murderer. The list went on and on.

So even though Kate wanted to act the way she had with the others, she didn't. Sawyer was different. Underneath the toughness, he actually had a heart.

Kate groaned as she realized her situation really did sound like a trashy romance novel.

Anyway, the last few weeks with Sawyer had been great, and she was willing to stifle her urge to run if it meant the next few would be the same. Problem was, Kate's conscience must have been nagging at her something fierce because those dreams were vivid, intense, and horrible. And the fact that Sawyer cared enough to comfort her after she woke up, along with pretty much everything else about their relationship, meant that he should probably know at least part of what had happened.

Of all people, he'd be the one to understand. It wasn't like Sawyer didn't have a few skeletons in his closet.

She lay wrapped in his arms as she pondered this, a part of her marveling at how nice it was to be held by someone who actually cared about her. This wasn't some act, some way to con the police. There _were_ no police here. It was just her, Sawyer, and a group of strangers who didn't know anything about her and wouldn't learn anything significant about her. As far as they were concerned, she was the quiet, pretty, hard working girl who worked to make sure everyone stayed alive.

Not the insane, psychotic bitch that appeared to endanger the lives of everyone she met.

Sawyer shifted in his sleep, nearly crushing her as he shifted his weight.

"You don't have to kill me!" she half snapped, half teased, as she made her way out of his arms.

Sawyer's eyes opened. "Say what?"

"You practically rolled on top of me," Kate explained.

Sawyer stretched, evidently still half asleep. "If you say so, princess."

He rolled over on his other side, reaching his arms out for her. "'S too early. Come on."

Kate paused. "You better not crush my lungs."

"I won't crush your lungs," Sawyer replied with a yawn. His eyes were closed and it was clear he had no idea what was going on.

Kate switched to the other side of the makeshift bed and curled up next to him. It was still pretty early. She was starting to feel tired too. Plenty of time to tell him later.

Kate began to snore a few minutes later, only stopping when Sawyer covered her mouth with his hand and muttered, "Shh."


	13. Chapter 13

His hand was still over Kate's mouth when they woke up a few hours later. Kate yawned, brush the arm aside, and stretched thoroughly before sitting up. She had slept better that night than she had in days, and felt more alert than usual. Kate knew the nightmares had been disturbing her rest but she didn't realize until now how much they had taken a toll on her. Maybe they would stop after she confessed everything to Sawyer. Wasn't that how confession was supposed to go? After you said all the bad things you did, you felt light and happy inside?

Kate had no experience with this, having been raised in some Protestant denomination. She was pretty sure she attended a Methodist church and Sunday school as a kid, but later attended Episcopalian services when she had been married to Kevin. It was all the same. She had pretty much stopped talking to God after blowing up the house and getting caught.

Not that they had been best friends before Kate became a wanted criminal. Kate had trouble believing in a loving God who was okay with husbands abusing their wives and kids.

Still, she figured there was probably something out there. It had to be, with the way things had been in her life. The way things were now. You couldn't survive a plane crash with forty plus other people and not think that life was a total accident.

She also didn't exactly believe that everything stopped once you were dead. Wayne was dead, and she'd long since felt that it was him leading the police to her ever since the fire.

Yeah, there was definitely something there out to get her. But that something had also finally killed the marshal, so maybe he or she or it was finally on Kate's side. Maybe all Kate had to do now was fess up to Sawyer—who was hardly a model figure—and then she'd be able to sleep at night. Wasn't that part of the reason she wasn't having sex with Sawyer? Punishment?

Sawyer's eyes opened and he groaned. A few weeks ago, Kate would have said he was in pain or remembering they were still on the island, or some combination. Now, she knew better. That noise—or rather, that particular variation of the noise—was just Sawyer's way of saying, "Morning…don't talk to me until I've had my coffee."

She could see herself in a small house with Sawyer. Him saying just that. Him enjoying a large mug of coffee, not diluted by milk or sugar. He's drink it black, strong. Unlike Kate, who used 2% milk and at least two packets of sugar. On the rare occasion that he woke up before she did, she'd greet him with a "hmph" and a grunt. Part mocking him, part serious. There was no coffee on the island to ease the transition from sleepiness to alertness. Just each other, and the reality that they were thousands of miles away from home. From any civilization, most likely.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she said, giving him a quick kiss.

So quick that Sawyer probably hadn't had time to register it before it was over. Kate grinned to herself. Sawyer always got more kisses from her when he was half asleep than when he was awake enough to enjoy them.

Sawyer snorted as though reading her thoughts, squeezed her shoulders. "Whatcha want to do today?"

Kate grabbed her shoes. "I was thinking a walk. Maybe go for a swim."

"Didn't we just do that?"

"Not much else to do in the way of entertainment. Unless you want to play golf?"

Sawyer shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know. We'll see." He smoothed her hair. "Ya hungry?"

Kate laughed. "Starved."

"Why don't I catch us some fish?" He paused. "We could take that walk, too."

"I'd like to do that," she replied, standing up. "You coming? The fish aren't going to catch themselves."

Sawyer stretched, reached for his shoes, and then extended an arm. "Help me up?"

Kate rolled her eyes and reached for Sawyer's arm. He grabbed her, pulling Kate into his lap, and began to tickle her along the neck.

"Gotcha."

She squirmed uncomfortably. "Let me go."

Sawyer stopped tickling her but kept his arms around her sides so she couldn't get up.

They were too close. "You keep that up and I'll have another injury," Kate complained.

"All right, get lost," Sawyer replied with a smile. Kate tried to get up, but he pulled her down again at the last minute.

"Hey!" she protested.

"What? I ain't tickling you," Sawyer replied innocently. He stood up, taking Kate with her. "You women are all so suspicious. Can't trust anyone."

Kate snorted, causing Sawyer to add, "Now, now, sweet cheeks, that ain't very ladylike."

This banter continued for a few more minutes as they walked toward the beach.

Sawyer was able to catch two fish within ten minutes while Kate went looking for fruit. By the time she returned with a few handfuls of berries, Sawyer was setting the fish in front of the fire and looking pleased with himself.

"Something smells good," Kate acknowledged with a grin.

"I am quite the provider," Sawyer replied by way of explanation. "Stick with me, Freckles, and there ain't nothing on this island that can hurt ya."

"What about that killer bee on your head?"

"Where?" Sawyer began to panic. "Get it off, get it off, get it off!" He began hopping from foot to foot and started covering his head. It only took a few seconds for him to get the joke. "There was no bee, was there?"

Kate just smirked. "You killed it with your dancing."

Sawyer scoffed but otherwise pretended not to hear the comment. A sizzling sound told him that the fish were done.

"Breakfast is done!" He gingerly removed the fish from one of the leaves and plopped it on top of another leaf on the sand. He repeated the process, a little less clumsily the second time, and handed the leaf with the larger fish to Kate. She sat down next to Sawyer and began to chew.

Sawyer kept sneaking looks at her while she ate. He finished his fish in the time it took Kate to take three bites. Finally, Kate stared at him.

"Do I have some fish stuck on my nose or something?"

Sawyer turned a little red and then moved a piece of hair from her face. "You're good."

The slimy yet warm feel of his hands on her cheeks remained with Kate and she felt a small shiver run down her. Not that it was a bad kind.

After the fish was gone, they munched on the berries and then watched the ocean. They sat closer and Kate found herself sitting in Sawyer's lap almost without intending to. Had she done that or had he?

Not that it mattered.

Still, she couldn't get comfortable. The last few nights weighed down on her, and even though she would have loved to spend the next few hours kissing Sawyer—and maybe more—her head wouldn't clear. Maybe that's why it was so hard when he surprised her like that. Kate felt like she didn't deserve it. She shifted her weight so that she was looking directly at Sawyer, sitting across his legs and peering into his face.

"Enjoying the view?" Sawyer asked, smiling.

"Maybe." Kate smiled back, but her heart wasn't in it.

Sawyer knew.

It bugged Kate that Sawyer knew. She was used to being able to keep everything to herself. She was proud of the fact that people couldn't read her.

Well, most people.

Maybe it was because Sawyer lied for a living. One liar had to be able to recognize another liar. Kate wasn't innocent, and something about that knowledge showed itself in her. Was it her face or the way she walked or something she did with her hands? She didn't know. She had practiced looking a certain way for years, and it made her uneasy that someone like Sawyer could just look at her and see through her. He lied for a living but she had based her living free on a lie.

The more she thought about it, the more her face would betray her, and the more Sawyer would know. She had to tell him before he guessed on his own.

Kate tried to remember what Sawyer had known. He knew about the marshal and knew that she had been his prisoner. Knew that the marshal had carried some kind of briefcase. Knew that the briefcase held guns. So, Sawyer could probably guess from this that Kate had been the reason behind the protection. Unless…and this was a big stretch…he thought that the guns were a safety measure and something that police used in Australia just in case someone turned out to be dangerous. How many times had people watched TV shows where the cops would appear from out of nowhere, point the gun at someone, and yell, "Come out with your hands up!"

Still, he had to know that whatever she had done—or rather, whatever people _said_ she had done—was more than just shoplifting. It meant that she had to leave the country. That she had been a danger to people.

Kate could lie and she thought that even Sawyer might believe it.

Except…then the dreams would return and Kate would have to run. She couldn't run long on an island. Sure, she could live by herself, but what was the point of that when there were potentially dangerous other people lurking around? They had kidnapped Claire and left Charlie for dead. They had infiltrated them with Ethan, who was now killing the survivors because Jack wouldn't give them Claire. They were _not_ nice people, whatever their motivations.

_My kind of people_, she thought ruefully.

No, she had to tell Sawyer the truth. The whole truth. If he rejected her, he wasn't worth it. Or so she told herself. But he was tarred too. He wasn't like Jack, the doctor who saved everyone's life. Sawyer was a con artist. Was proud of this. Being a con artist wasn't the same as killing people and yet…he'd committed outright crimes.

He may have even gone to jail.

As though reading Kate's mind, Sawyer spoke up softly. A finger played with a loose curl. At any other time, Kate would have tried to fight back, but there was something oddly comforting about this gesture. She put her face against his arm. Maybe they could sit like that for a few more minutes. Really, there was no need to tell Sawyer this _instant…_

"Freckles," Sawyer began tentatively.

Kate tried to force a smile. "Yeah?"

Sawyer took a deep breath, hugged her tightly, and then said, "You know…if there's anything you want to tell me…" He paused.

"Yes?"

"I'll listen. You can talk to me," he finished.

She spoke without thinking because if she thought then she'd never say it.

"I killed my father."

To his credit, Sawyer didn't pull her away from him. As far as Kate could tell, he didn't even seem disgusted. If anything, he held her tighter. When she looked up, Kate saw that Sawyer looked…well…curious. He watched her for a minute, waiting for her to speak, but when she didn't, he did.

"Aww come on, Freckles. Ain't you gonna give me more info than that?" He smoothed another curl out of her face. "I ain't one to judge," he whispered.

Kate took a deep breath, let it out, and then took another one. "He'd been abusing my mother years. Really bad. After awhile, I just…couldn't take it."

His arms wrapped around hers, and suddenly Kate's vision blurred.

"'S all right, Kate," he murmured, hugging her fiercely. "He's gone now."

Kate was crying visibly now. "It's why the marshal was with me. He was going to take me to jail."

Sawyer snorted. "Stupid cops. Ain't they all just the same? It's not like he was there when your dad was beating your ma up."

Kate shook her head. "He wasn't my dad. Just my biological father." She gave a weak smile.

"Exactly," Sawyer agreed. "You ain't just your blood."

Kate seemed to take great solace in that. She clung to his hug, arms holding Sawyer so tightly he thought he'd have bruises the next day.

He tried to maneuver Kate into his lap. She let him hold her, rub her back, and just be there for her. Neither of them spoke for awhile. Kate finally broke the silence.

"I always thought he was my stepfather. He married my mom when I was about seven. The man who I thought was my real father, my _dad_, had been divorced from my mom since I was five. I found out my dad had been out of the country at the time right before I killed him." A pause. "I think that's why I did it."

"Bet your real dad didn't know what was going on. He would have stopped that jerk if he knew he was hurting you and your mom."

So Sawyer had guessed the second part. Or been close enough. Kate wouldn't tell him that part now. It was her secret.

"He knew enough. Thought it was my mom's decision to stay with him. Didn't want to interfere. I didn't even know he wasn't my real father until a few years back."

"Son of a bitch."

"I didn't want to. I had to."

Suddenly Sawyer laughed. "Too bad we can't time travel. I'd take you back to when I was seven and have you kill the son of a bitch who killed my mom." He paused, then added, "_My_ dad."

Kate gave a low shudder. "My God…"

"Yeah well, we'll save that story for another time, okay?" Sawyer shook his head. "I just don't wanna go into it right now."

Kate just gave a quick nod without fully registering what he was saying.

"You did what you had to. You protected your ma." In a low voice, he said, "That's more'n I was able to do."

"She didn't see it like that. She couldn't wait to turn me in." Her voice was flat. "I took out an insurance policy on the house, burnt the damn thing to the ground, watched that monster die. And she just called the police and went back to waiting tables. She said I was a murderer and she couldn't help who she loved. She had a cast on from the last time he was with her and she blamed me for making it go away."

"Kate, people ain't always gonna appreciate what you do."

There was a long silence.

"Do you hate yourself for it?"

Kate stared at the water before replying. "I hate what it did to my life. I hate what people say I am. But Sawyer, he was evil. If I was gonna do it all over I might have just left home, but I might not."

"He deserved to die, Freckles."

Kate wasn't sure she could agree with that. Maybe killing him hadn't just been a dumb idea, but had been wrong. Who was she to take another person's life?

"My mom deserved for him not to hurt her," she amended. Then, "At least, that's what I thought. She didn't."

What she didn't say was that she deserved not to be hurt too.

Sawyer didn't need to ask.

He understood.

A/N: Sorry for the long delay. Stupid finale ending made it hard to write Skate for awhile. Hopefully, there are still people out there reading this! Please leave a review and I promise to update faster.


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